ELIZABETH 





A. HALL 


George Washington Flowers 
Memorial Collection 


ESTABLISHED BY THE 
FAMILY OF 
COLONEL FLOWERS 


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FROM 
‘POVERTY TO PLENTY: 


OR, 


THE LIFE OF 


DAVED. SNOW. 





WRITTEN BY HIMSELF. 





BOSTON: 
PRINTED FOR THE AUTHOR BY J- BENT & Co. 


1875. ; 


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DAVID SNOW, 


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PREFACE, 


For several years past I have been repeatedly urged to write a 
history of my life; but I have had neither time nor inclination to do 
it until now. Iam aware that it is a delicate task for any one to 
make public their own acts from childhood to old age, especially if 
their lives have been as active and varied as mine; but I am encour- 
aged by many who have gone before me, whose lives have stimu- 
lated me to new resolves to leave no stone unturned that I might 
accomplish the seeming destiny for which I was created. 

In a country like ours, the native-born citizen takes pride in 
what are called ‘‘ self-made men,” —persons who, without wealth 
or early educational advantages, have struggled against misfortune 
until, by their unaided exertions, they have mastered the situation, 
and have been acknowledged successful. They may have been 
reared in a log cabin or lowly cottage, or lived ragged, barefoot, and 
scantily clothed, toiling daily for a meagre supply of food, and not 
knowing, at times, from whence their next morsel was to come; and 
yet they pushed on, confronting every obstacle, facing every storm, 
until by industry and economy they conquered all. 

I am fully persuaded that every young man holds his destiny in 
his own hands, and may, with Divine help, become about what he de- 
termines to be. Mr. Colfax is the son of a poor widow; Mr. Lin- 
coln was a rail-splitter; Dr. A. Stevens, the historian of Methodism, 
was a poor factory boy; Isaac Rich commenced life by bagging oys- 
ters at the North End. There are men all around us who started 

3 


4 PREFACE. 


in life poor; but application to books or trade, accompanied by 
economy, have made them the leading minds of the land. But if - 
the young man prefers play to study, the social glass to temperance, 
a life of idleness to one of active industry, he will be sure to reap 
what he sows. 

I never really felt the need of culture until I was nearly twenty 
years of age. Up to that time I worked hard to earn a scanty sup- 
ply of bread. When I began to realize the necessity of improving 
my mind, I gave what spare time I could command to reading such 
books as came in my way; but I had to grope along in the dark 
with no kind hand to help me; and only an inward impulse which 

*said: ‘“‘I can and will be something more than a mere ‘hewer of 
wood and drawer of water,’” kept up my spirits. Iread history, and 
was particularly interested in the life of Rothschild, who, though 
poor at first, by honesty and industry rose to be the greatest banker 
of the world. 

My only object in sending this manuscript to the press while liy- 
ing, is the hope that it may benefit some young man who is acquaint- 
ed with me. If it should help any struggling one to hope on, I shall 
be more than compensated for all trouble and expense. If I am am- 
bitious in any one thing, it is that I may stimulate those who come 

‘after me to take courage, remembering that what has been done can 
be done again. Seek not merely fame, honor, or worldly emoluments, 
for these all perish; but livé so as to benefit others. Aim high, and 
God will help those who help themselves. Hang out no false 
lights; but be true to yourself, to your country, and to your God. 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER I. 

PAGE. 

CAPE CODE apie eee, mote! 5 0) Seis ee et clef utet a eta oie. 
CHAPTER I. 


TANGER STORG Ie eat ver sales esc at sun's)! 00 bok ster tet po, sa) v er de 


Motamvadtrme teen. Tene a renal ate: oh Gh RAN cate eh, TT SA ge 


CHAPTER IV. 
Orn THH (CAPRI ec@ ste sis ok Ti wes) Se re ps) eh! a et ok 6 


CHAPTER V.*— 


RARLY ATTEMPTS Aq) MONKY-MAKING . <0 «0 ie lei gen ©. « Se 80 


CHAPTER VI. 
A WESTERN ADVENTURER . et dete - a ite l Late stems enaty ote 00 
CHAPTER VI. 
DEREATPANDAVICTORNG - opitel plein Sie isle one eel cetlt ebm teicl sith Hee 86 
5 


6 CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER VII 


A NEW DEPARTURE . . . . . 


A CHANGE INBUSINESS. . . . a 


CHAPTER X. 
PLACE FOUND AT LAST . . oe . 

CHAPTER XI. 
SNOW AND RICH . . . . . . 


SAILING MY OWN CRAFT ° . - . 


SCRAPS FROM MY DIARY 5 4 . 


CHAPTER XIV. 


MISCELLANEOUS WRITINGS .. 5 


——_——+@+—____ 


ILLUSTRATIONS. 


PORTRAIT (Frontispiece). 

THE HOUSE IN WHICH I WAS BORN. . 
CaRRYING THE BARREL TO MY CLAM-HOUSE 
A NARROW ESCAPE a a aie tar 
GOING WEST . e ° . . . ° 
LINSEY-WOOLSEY AT AUCTION . °. ° 
BOUND TO NEW ORLEANS . . . . 

I SAT DOWN AND WEPT LIKE A CHILD . 
PEDDLING /GAKHS to. 4.2) ) 2 eu Oot pte 


PAGE. 


EFsxuge2se8 


. FROM POVERTY 10 PLENTY; 


oR, 


THE LIFE OF DAVID SNOW. 





CHAPTER I. 


CAPE COD. 


‘¢ Ayn, call it holy ground, 
The soil where first they trod! 
They have left unstained what there they found — 


Freedom to worship God.” 
; — Mrs Hemans. 


T seems proper, in giving a brief account of my 
eventful life, that it should be prefaced with a com- 
prehensive notice of that important section of Massa- 
chusetts in which I was born, —Cape Cod, —and its 
first settlers, from which have sprung one of the great- 
est nations on the face of the earth. 


Cape Cod, the landing place of the pilgrims, is a long, 
7 


8 FROM POVERTY TO PLENTY; OR, 


irregular peninsula, sixty-five miles in length on the 
north, and seventy-five on the south, and from five to 
twenty miles in breadth; forming the south and south- 
east boundaries of Massachusetts Bay. It includes 
thirteen towns, embracing the entire of Barnstable 
County. : 
Cape Cod, which every resident and every descendant _ 
of every resident of either of these thirteen towns is 
proud to own, was originally limited to that portion 
which constitutes its terminus; but now the name is 
generally applied to the whole peninsula. The Ameri- 


can historian, Bancroft, asserts that Cape Cod was the - 


‘¢ first land in New England ever trod by Englishmen.” 
It was first discovered by Bartholomew Gosnold, a 
native of England, who sailed for the New World, March 
26, 1602, and on May 14 of the same year, made land, 
and on the following day found himself ‘* embayed with 
a mighty headland.” Here he anchored in fifteen fath- 
oms of water, and his crew took great quantities of cod- 
fish, from which circumstance he named it « Cape Cod.” 
It was subsequently visited by other explorers, but no 
settlement was attempted until the Pilgrims arrived 
there in 1620. 


PURITANS AND PILGRIMS. 


Under the reign of Henry VIII., in order that his 
divorce from Queen Catherine ‘and marriage to Anne 
Boleyn might be vindicated, the English clergy were’al- 


THE LIFE OF DAVID SNOW. 9 


lowed to throw off the supremacy of the Pope, and, so 
far as that base tyrant permitted, embrace the leading 
doctrines of the Reformation. But the English Church 
retained a multitude of Romish ceremonies, and a pro- 
found respect for ecclesiastical traditions ; so much so 
that when, in the reign of Edward VI., the liturgies 
and church ceremonies were settled, several bishops and 
others protested against them as altogether too popish. 
The Bible having recently been translated into English 
and given to the people, was read with eagerness, and 
the more sincere and devout judged that not only social 
relations and habits of everyday life, but the institutions 
of Church and State, should be reconstructed and made 
to conform to this divine model. 

Though composed chiefly of the humble classes, they 
soon became a considerable party, and finally drew to 
themselves more or less of clergymen, merchants, land 
proprietors, and even some of the nobility. They were, 
by way of derision, called Puritans; but they were 
blameless in their lives, mainly correct in their doc- 
trines, and confidently claimed, by virtue of the new 
birth, to be the children of God. While they enter- 
tained a profound respect for the Church, they de- 
nounced church ceremonies and the hierarchy, and at 
length the more bold and ardent renounced the English 
communion, and set up a church of their own, upon 
what they conceived to be the Bible model. 

Elizabeth enforced the law against non-conformity, — 


10 FROM POVERTY TO PLENTY; OR, 


including Catholic and Puritan, — which exposed the 
Puritans to arbitrary punishment. Under the reign of 
James, the English bishops arrogated to themselves 
divine rights which could not be conceded by the Puri- 
tans ; consequently the Court of High Commission, an 
arbitrary tribunal without juries, exercised authorities 
which the courts of law attempted in vain to restrict, 
scarcely less horrible than the famous Spanish Inquisi- 
tion. Most of the congregations of the separatists were 
broken up, and they were obliged to hold their meetings 
in secret to avoid detection and punishment. The scat- 
tered members in the counties of Nottingham, Lincoln, 
and York, formed two congregations. But these, pur- 
sued and harrassed by the bishops, with fines and im- 
prisonments, induced the more zealous to seek refuge 
abroad. 

5 They succeeded in making their escape to Holland. 
Some difficulties arose here between the new comers and © 
a church of English exiles, which induced the former 
to remove to Leyden. Not enjoying the un-Puritanic 
character and manners of the Dutch, they had thoughts 
of moving to Guiana, but finally determined to emigrate 
to Virginia. ; 

A company sailed from Leyden in the ‘* Speedwell” 
—a small vessel purchased in Holland for that purpose 
—for Northampton, England. Here they were joined 
by the ‘* Mayflower,” and on the fifteenth of August set 
sail for the New World. The ‘‘ Speedwell,” proving 


THE LIFE OF DAVID SNOW. 11 


unseaworthy, first put into Dartmouth, then into Plym- 
outh, where she was left. Some of her passengers 
were transferred to the ‘‘ Mayflower,” which finally put 
to sea Sept. 6. After a most perilous passage of two 
months, the famous ‘ headland,” Cape Cod, was made 
Nov. 9. They attempted to go south, but head winds 
and stress of weather prevented ; so they finally entered 
and came to anchor in Cape Cod harbor, Nov. 11, 1620. 
The ‘‘ Mayflower” returned in the spring, and in Novem- 
ber following, one year from the time the Pilgrims made 
Cape Cod, another party of colonists arrived in the 
<«¢ Fortune,” including those left behind by the ‘* Speed- 
well.” 


REMOVING FROM PLYMOUTH. 


In 1642, the settlers of Plymouth, having become 
dissatisfied with their situation, a removal’ of the whole 
body to Nauset (afterwards Eastham) was seriously 
contemplated, on account of the barrenness of Plymouth. 
Nauset was frequently visited, up to 1643, by the settlers 
of Plymouth, for the purpose of procuring means of 
subsistence ; but no effort was made until the year last 
named to begin a plantation at this place. Nauset was 
owned and occupied by the Indians. It was felt that it 
would be a more eligible situation than Plymouth; con- 
sequently the church appointed a committee of seven; 
viz., Thomas Prince, John Deang Nicholas Snow, Josiah 
Cook, Richard Higgins, John Smelly and Edward 


12 FROM POVERTY TO PLENTY. 


Bangs, to inspect this locality more fully. This com- 
mittee not only purchased Nauset of the Indians, but 
became the first settlers of the place, and were ever 
known as ‘‘ the seven proprietors of Nauset.” In 1797 
Eastham was divided, and a portion, formerly known 
as ‘the South Precinct,” was called Orleans. 

The first settlers of Nauset were among the most re- 
spectable inhabitants of Plymouth, and their departure 
from their old friends was deeply regretted, 


-CHAPTER II. 


ANCESTORS. 


‘¢T HAVE no urns, no dusty monuments; 
No broken images of ancestors, 
Wanting an ear, or nose; no forged tables 


Of long descents, to boast false honors from.” 
— Johnson. 


I am one 
‘Who finds within me a nobility 
That spurns the idle pratings of the great, 


And their mean boast of what their fathers were.” 
; — Percival. 


I BOAST nothing of my ancestors, and yet they 

compare favorably with most of our Puritanic fami- 
lies. They were the pure Pilgrim stock, and helped to 
plant that civil and religious commonwealth which is the 
glory of all lands. 

My father’s name was David, and my mother’s name 
was Lucia Higgins. They were both descendants of 
the first proprietors of Nauset. David Snow, my fath- 
er, was the fifth generation from Nicholas Snow. The 
family occupied numerous places of trust and responsi- 


bility in the town, which showed that they were among 
2 re 


14 FROM POVERTY TO PLENTY; OR, 


the first families. Nicholas Snow was town clerk for 
fifteen years; his son, Mark Snow, succeeded him in 


the office, and retained it twelve years in succession, — 


and was subsequently elected to the same office. His 
son, Jabez Snow, held the same office. Nicholas Snow 
served as selectman ten years; Mark Snow, eighteen 
years ; Jabez Snow, four years ; Joseph Snow, Jr., one 
year; Micajah Snow, four years; Jabez Snow, Jr., two 
years ; Sylvanus Snow, two years; James Snow, one 
year. 

When we remember that to be a selectman of the 
town, or a town clerk, in those early times, was to re- 
ceive the best gifts the town had to bestow, and that 
they were only bestowed upon the truest and most 
competent residents, it will be admitted that the Snow 
family were among the most honored of the town. 

Mark Snow, son of Nicholas, married a daughter of 
Gov. Prince, and was thus connected with the nobility. 
My father followed the sea. He sailed from Boston in 
the fall previous to 1799, in a schooner deeply laden 
with fish, bound for one of the West India islands, and 
when on the Bahama Banks she foundered and all on 
board were lost. 

Lucia Snow, my mother, was the daughter of Rich- 
ard Higgins, who was a descendant of Richard Higgins, 
one of the original settlers of Nauset. So early as 1633, 
his name appears among the list of freemen of Ply- 


mouth, showing that he came there soon after that town 


a ae 


THE LIFE OF DAVID SNOW. 15 


was settled. He is supposed to have come over with 
‘the second company, who were called ‘‘the second 
comers.” 

The Higgins family is quite numerous, and have been 
distinguished as good men and worthy citizens. The 
early settlers of this name occupied many posts of hon- 
or in the town and county. ‘They are said to have de- 
scended from the French Huguenots. The name is from 
Hugghes and Riggins, from which comes Higgins. 
This was a noble race of men. At a much earlier pe- 
riod they came to Florida and settled on the St. John’s 
River, near St. Augustine, and were exterminated by 
the Spanish Catholics under Hernandez. 

The people in those days were uncommonly poor. 
Their fuel was drift-wood and peat. Mr. Higgins, my 
grandfather, lived near the shore, and, to secure bread, 
was obliged to dig clams for the market. He backed 
wood from the backside over to the inside of the harbor, 
then to his clam house on the main land, then up to his 
house, about half a mile farther. He was the owner of 
about ten acres of land, such as. it was, a part of which 
he planted yearly, and sought, almost in vain, to com- 
pel it to yield a little food. He lived to a good old 
age, and one day while on his way home from a pond 
in Porche, where he had been to spear eels, he fell 
dead. 

My mother was born in Eastham. In those times 
educational advantages were very limited. Not only 


16 FROM POVERTY TO PLENTY. 


was the instruction imparted of the most indifferent 
character, but three months schooling in a year was all 
that could be enjoyed. Under these disadvantages the 
daughter grew up without education, entirely ignorant 
of writing and arithmetic. She was married at the age 
of twenty. 


CHAPTER III. 


EARLY LIFE. 


‘¢'Phey closed beside the chimney’s blaze, 
And talked and hoped for happier days, 
And lent their spirit’s rising glow 
Awhile to guild impending woe.” 

— Scott. 


*¢ Bold, quick, ingenious, forward, capable; 
He’s all the mother’s from the top to toe.” 
— Shakspeare. 


WAS born in that part of old Eastham, known as 

Orleans, Noy. 1799. As no record of births was 
kept, the day of the month on which I was born I was 
never able to learn. I had one brother, Godfrey, and 
one sister, Ruth. I was the youngest, and was but 
three weeks old at the time of my father’s death, con- 
sequently have no recollection of him. 

By the unexpected death of my father my mother 
was left in destitute circumstances, not to say abject 
poverty, with three small children entirely dependent 
upon her for support and education. She had a small 
house and four acres of barren land around it. This 


was her only reliance, save her own personal efforts, to 
17 


18 FROM POVERTY TO PLENTY; OR, 


support her dependent family. In her destitute condi- 
tion, with none to help her, she placed the two eldest 
children among her relatives; and, with myself, the 
youngest, in the spring of 1806, embarked on board a 
fishing boat from Orleans to Provincetown, where an 
older sister resided and was married to ayman by the 
name of Freeman, who was worth some property. 
Here she had arranged to work during the summer to 
provide for thé coming winter. Provincetown, im those 
days, was the only place on the Cape where one could 
get money for their labor, as it was engaged in fish- 
eries, and fish always brought money. I was just old 
enough to remember the voyage, by the tossing of the 
boat over the billows, and the sleeping with my moth- 
er. Being a somnambulist, I arose in the night, at one 
time, and was making my way to the shore, about to - 
take a bath in the harbor, when my mother caught me 
in her arms and waked me. 4 

So destitute were we at times that I can remember 
frequently going to bed at night hungry, and erying 
myself to sleep. But my mother, pressed with want, 
and courageously determining to rear her orphan chil- 
dren, never yielded to discouragements. Had my fath- 
er possessed the same enterprise, his success would 
have been more marked. But how to accomplish her 
desired object was a question not so easily solyed in 
those days as in these. She resorted to trade, and her 
first effort in this direction was the selling of an old 





Tue Housk IN WHICH I WAS BORN. 





THE LIFE OF DAVID SNOW. 19 


field, not being able to fence it, for the sum of twenty- 
five dollars. This was her capital with which to com- 
mence business. With this small sum she purchased a 
barrel of crackers, a little tea, a few needles and pins, 
a little tape, etc. This was her stock in trade. For a 
store, she finished off a part of the kitchen, and in it 
commenced business. Small as was this beginning, with 
her natural ener, y and economy, she was sure to be 
successful. I have said that she could neither write 
nor cipher; and, we may add, that spelling was equal- 
ly difficult. She could read tolerably well; and the 
only book seen in that humble home for many years 
was the old family Bible and the spelling book. To 
her credit it should be said that her education was 
equal to a large portion of the community in those days. 

What gives evidence of the presence of more than 
ordinary skill, she not only, without the necessary 
qualifications for trade, carried on, for many years, a 
small, but successful business, but she invented a new 
and novel system of book-keeping, admirably adapted 
to her wants. She learned to make the capital letter 
beginning each creditor’s name. By this method she 
recalled the name of the person trusted ; then, following 
the letter, was a long, horizontal line, thus : — 


i aaa 


The long perpendicular marks below the line stood for 


20 FROM POVERTY TO PLENTY; OR, 


shillings ; the shorter, or half marks, for sixpence; the 
short marks above the line for pence. The line across 
the four long lines indicated one dollar. This was at 
once a novel and ingenious system of book-keeping, 
and served her purpose as well as any system of single 
or double entry. Our currency at that time was reck- 
oned in pounds, shillings and pence. 

My mother did not amass -wealth, but scnientan: in 
supporting her little family with comfort, and great 
credit to herself. But in doing this she was obliged to 
study and practice the most rigid economy. Few 
mothers, with such limited means at their command, 
have done as nobly for a dependent family. It was 
some time before her trade was sufficiently remunera- 
tive to furnish an ample supply for the family. It was 
not an uncommon occurrence to send the children to bed 
with a meagre supper. I recollect at one time we cried 
because we had nothing for supper but a crust of bread ; 
and my mother’s sister, —aunt Ruth, —took some of 
it and ate it before us, and praised it, saying, ‘* Oh, how 
good it is!” So we finally submitted to our supper, 
poor as it was, and cried ourselves to sleep for some- 
thing better. 

Matters went on much after this style for some years, 
when my brother Godfrey shipped with Capt. E. Free- 
man, to go avoyage to the West Indies, as cook. Dur- 
ing the voyage several of the crew died of the yellow 
fever, and Godfrey thought at one time that he would 


THE LIFE OF DAVID SNOW. 21 


not be able to get home again. It was a joyful hour to 
my mother when the news came that the vessel had ar- 
rived, and was anchored in old State harbor, in what 
was called Porchet. I was started off in great haste for 
the vessel, to bring tidings to my mother of my broth- 
er’s safety. Iwas at this time about eight years of 
age. I met Godfrey with a pillow case half full of 
oranges, of which I relieved him, bringing them safely to 
my mother. She, overjoyed_at his coming, called in 
her neighbors to rejoice with her on the safe arrival of 
her eldest boy. 

There being nothing for young men to do on the Cape 
but to follow the sea, Godfrey soon shipped again. At 
the breaking out of the war of 1812 he was on board 
the privateer Reindéer. She was captured, and he suf- 
fered for a while in Dartmouth prison. 

I remained at home with my mother, and in the sum- 
mer worked some in the garden, and dug and dried 
peat and housed it for winter fuel. I did not enjoy 
work in those early days, but, like other boys, shirked 
whenever I could. At one time my mother required 
me to wheel some eggs to the port, and being too lazy 
to take out the bars, one end being down, I undertook 
to roll my barrow of eggs over them, and in so doing I 
upset wheelbarrow, eggs and all. I collected them to- 
gether as well as I could, being careful to place all the 
cracked and broken ones at the bottom, and the sound 
ones on top. I said nothing to my mother about it, 


22 FROM POVERTY TO PLENTY; OR, 


fearing that she would either scold or whip me. When 
the packet came back, the captain informed my mother 
that the eggs were badly broken; but no one suspected 
that I knew how it occurred, and I was wise enough to ~ 
keep silent. Such is human nature even in childhood. 

During the winter I attended school. One day, not 
having had much breakfast, there being little or no food 
in the house, I was very hungry. I left the school and 
went home as fast as I could; and found my mother spin- 
ning on a big wheel in the front room. I remember it 
now as though it were but yesterday. I said, ** Mother, 
Iam hungry; can you give me something to eat?” She 
stopped, went to a drawer, opened it, took out a piece 
of bread, and broke off a small piece and gave it me. 
As she did so I sawa big tear run down her cheek. 
' That tear went to my very soul, and I never forgot the 
impression made upon my young heart. I resolved, if 
possible, I would seek a better condition, and escape a 
state of poverty. This resolve I never lost sight of in 
aJl the years of my toil for wealth. I dreaded poverty, 
for I had felt its iron in my own soul. To such a state 
I could say with Shakspeare : — 


“My poverty, not my will, consents.” 


When about eight years old I lived for a time with 
Deacon Freeman, and one summer with Mr. Hopkins, 
an old whaler, who used to delight the boys with Bis 
tales of ‘* whale-ketching.” 


THE LIFE OF DAVID SNOW. 23 


Until I was about fourteen I was principally employed 
in doing errands for my mother, and procuring winter 
fuel. When I was about ten years old I only had one 
pair of shoes a year, and sometimes it was quite late in 
the fall before I could get those. My mother employed 
one David Young, who lived a mile away, to make 
them. As usual, in the fall, every body was in a hurry 
for their shoes. I went several times, the last of No- 
vember, for mine. Many a day it was so cold— there 
being a little snow on the ground —that I would run 
from one fence to another, then hold up my feet and 
rub them with my hands to create a little circulation, 
and then down and run for the next fence, and so on 
till I reached the shoemaker’s house. At last my shoes 
were completed, and the shoemaker’s wife had done 
her part by giving them a good greasing. This was 
the first pair of shoes I remember of having; and not 
even in the French boots which have sin¢e cost me ten 
dollars have I felt so proud as I did in those cow-hide 
shoes that cost one dollar. Poverty, want and suffer- 
ing, or such privaticns as I endured, made impressions 
that will never be obliterated. 

Such was the success of my mother’s business that 
she was enabled to purchase of one Dr. Ford a peat 
swamp, for which she paid about fifty dollars. The 
wood having been removed by the early settlers, and 
there being no coal, peat swamps were quite valuable. 
It was sold to my mother with a right of way across 


24 FROM POVERTY TO PLENTY; OR, 


afield. But subsequently the field was sold to a Mr. 
Knowles, a trader of the town, with no restrictions, ef- 
fectually shutting out my mother and the neighbors. 
This caused a great deal of unpleasant feeling, and re- 
sulted in my mother being forbidden to cross the field. 
She was informed that her deed gave her a right of 
way to the swamp, —and so it did ; but she was to look 
to Dr. Ford for damages. So, when the peat was dry, 
Capt. Linnel was employed to cart it in. Not being 
willing to run the risk of prosecution, he employed me, 
then only eight years of age, to drive the team. I was, 
of course, to be arrested for trespass, to prevent which 
my mother sent me to Portia, the eastern part of 
Orleans, to my grandfather’s, where I was kept locked 
up for about two months. This only postponed the 
day of doom; for I was soon after arrested, taken to 
Barnstable, and, locked up in the jail. My mother 
bailed me out. This event made no little talk among 
the neighbors. I rode from Orleans to Barnstable be- 
hind the sheriff, on horseback, on a hot summer's day. 
Is it any wonder that I wept when the prison key was 
turned upon me for the night? I never forgot the treat- 
ment of Major Knowles, as he was called. The family, 
it is said, turned out poorly, and some of them eame to 
want. I was asked in prison what I had done to bring 
me there. My reply was,‘ I only drove a team.” 
While this transaction greatly diminished the trade 
of Major Knowles, it as greatly increased that of my 


THE LIFE OF DAVID SNOW. 25 


mother; the whole thing, on his part, doubtless, grow- 
ing out of competition in trade. 

In the winter of 1810, Mr. Gideon Baty, of Sand- 
wich, a distant relative of John Knowles, came to Or- 
leans, and frequently visited my mother’s store for the 
purpose of procuring liquor,—no one thinking it, in 
those days, wrong to either sell or drmk. Mr. Baty 
had been a merchant in Boston, and was considered 
quite wealthy. But he had become very intemperate, 
and his wife had sent him down to the Cape, hoping 
thereby to wean him from his cups. Seeing me, and 
taking quite a liking to me, he said to my mother that I 
was just such.a boy as he wanted to do chores about his 
house; and if she would consent to let him take me 
home, he would send me to the academy. She consent- 
ed, and I returned with Mr. Baty; not very much to 
the satisfaction of his wife, as I soon learned. I was 
with him most of the time for a year, and was frequent- 
ly turned out of bed in the night and compelled to sleep 
in the cradle, to give place to Mrs. B., who was driven 
from her bed by a drunken husband. 

While at Sandwich I received the title of ‘* David 
Razer.” It was on this wise: One day, seeing a com- 
pany of boys at play, Mr. Baty called them to him and 
introduced me as his «‘ David Razer”; and by this nick- 
name I was known while I resided in the place. 

The schooling which I received at Sandwich was about 


all I ever had of any great value to me. 
3 


CHAPTER IV. 


; OFF THE CAPE. 


“Tre land was beautiful: » 
Fair rose the spires, and gay the buildings were, 


. And rich the plains, like dreams of blessed isles.” 
— Maturin, * 


‘* Dear is that shed to which his soul conforms, 
And dear that hill which lifts him to the storms; 
And as a child, when scaring sounds molest, pe 
Clings close and closer to the mother’s breast, 
So the loud torrent, and the whirlwind’s roar, 
But bind him to his old Cape Cod the more.” 


HE time came for me to look upon the outside 

world. I had dreamed that Cape Cod was all the 

world, and so it was to me. I had thought, like Pol- 
lock’s man, ; ; 


“The visual line that girt me round, the world’s extreme.” , 


In 1812, as the war came on, I returned home, and to 
my old employment — digging peat, working in the gar- 


den, &c. — until I felt that I must try my luck in some 
26 


THE LIFE’ OF DAVID SNOW. oT 


other line, and thus help my mother. Some time before 
this, my mother, on her return from Boston, — to which 
place she went about four times a year to replenish her 
goods, —told me that she had made a bargain with the 
captain that I should visit Boston on the packet, and 
work my passage as cook. I knew nothing about cook- 
ing, but was willing to try my hand at that or any thing 
else, for the sake of seeing the great city of Boston. So 
I shipped for the trip. 

The packet arrived in due time, early in the evening, 
at what was then called ‘‘ Town Dock.” As I came on 
deck, I exclaimed: ‘‘ Oh, what a lot of poplar trees!” - 
They proved to be a forest of masts of fishing crafts, 
which centered at Town Dock to supply the place with 
fish. JI attempted to make a codfish chowder, but sea- 
soned it so abundantly with salt that only the fish could 
be eaten. We hauled in to Codman’s Wharf, and in 
the morning, on going on deck, and seeing a brick 
store, —the first I had ever seen, —I inquired if that 
‘was the Governor’s house. Such was my knowledge 
of city life at that time. 

The next day I was to go up town and:scee the sights ; 
and for such a tour of observation suitable preparations 
must be made; so I put on my white stockings. But, 
by going barefoot all summer, my heels had become 
rough, and in pulling on the stockings I came suddenly 
to grief: the stockings tearing, the rough heels were 
left exposed. I repaired damages as well as I could, 


/ 


28 FROM POVERTY TO PLENTY; OR, 


and put on my shoes, which I took good care to have 
blacked before leaving home, with a mixture of the 
white of an egg and soot, which latter 1 seraped from 
the fireplace. Thus attired, I started for up town. 

; Passing up the wharf, through a place called ‘ Roe- 
buck,” into Ann Street, I was deeply interested in hear- 
ing a boy sing on the street. A bystander inquired how 
much he asked for singing. He said he would sing 
three songs for one cent, six songs for two cents, and 
nine songs for three cents. This greatly amused me, 
as I had never heard any one sing for money before. 

After taking a look at all the sights to be seen, I 
thought it time to return to the packet; when, to my 
amazement, I could not tell where she was lying. I was 
a lost boy, and began to ery, while the bystanders sym- 
pathized with me. I could not-tell whence I came, hay- 
ing forgotten the name of the wharf. But-.after collect- 
ing my best memory, I said it was ‘* Cape-Cod-Man’s 
Fort.” This was as near ‘* Codman’s Wharf” as I could 
remember. The place was guessed out, and the young 
Cape-Cod cook was safe on board the Orleans packet 
again, having seen as much of Boston as he could well 
endure for one day. Neither he nor the packet’s crew 
dreamed that he would one day build the splendid stone- 
front building on Merchants’ Row, near the spot where 
Codman’s Wharf then was; and that he would be presi- 
dent of the National Bank of the Republic — capital, 
$1,500,000 — in that same building, in 1874. 


THE LIFE OF DAVID SNOW. 29 


Ireturned to Orleans, having made my first trip as 
cook, but not my last to the city where, in after years, 
I was to be known as one of its merchants and bank- 
ers. 


CHAPTER Y. 


EARLY ATTEMPTS AT MONEY-MAKING. —MY FIRST TEN 
DOLLARS. ; 


““WantT is a bitter and a hatefal good, 
Because it’s virtues are not understood ; 
Yet many things, impossible to thought, 
Have been by need to full perfection brought. 
The daring of the soul proceeds from thence; 
Sharpness of wit, and active diligence; . 
Prudence at once, and fortitude it gives; 
And, if in patience taken, mends our lives.” 


— Dryden. 

HEN about fifteen years of age, I conceived the 
idea of money making on a scale not at all in 
harmony with the spirit of the present time; but much 
like what I witnessed around me, as the inevitable des- 
tiny of a son of Cape Cod in those days. Fishing was 
the chief business of Orleans in the summer, and dig- 
ging clams in the winter. I thought it the business of 
the world, as Orleans was all the world to me. In fact, 
Orleans was regarded as the finest clam-field of the 
Cape. Money must be earned, and clam-digging was 

the only employment which promised success. 

30 








CARRYING 


THE 


BARREL TO MY C 





Vit 


ps8 APR IOOTE 


LAM-HOUSE, 





THE LIFE OF DAVID SNOW. Sil 


My mother had an old molasses hogshead, which she 
gave me as my stock in trade; and with this I com- 
menced the clam business. JI rolled that hogshead more 
than a mile, over fields and fences, to a cooper, named 
Harding, who made of it for me two barrels. These I 
carried a mile, on my back, to a clam-house which I had 
constructed of rails and seaweed, at the head of the 
cove which made up into the centre of the town. At 
low water I would dig my clams, and during high tide 
would open them in my seaweed camp. When the 
clams froze, on a cold night, as was often the case, I 
would build a little fire; and if my hands became cold 
and stiff in opening the frozen clams, I would put them 
into the fire and thaw them out. In this way I labored 
for some four months, filling my two barrels with clams, 
and getting them ready for market. I then had them 
carted to a vessel, a mile away, which took them to 
Plymouth. Here they were sold, and on the captain’s 
return he paid me ten dollars, the net proceeds of four 
months’ labor in cold and wet; and, as I have often 
said, I never felt so rich before nor since. 

This was earning bread by the sweat of the brow, 
with wet feet and cold hands, to one’s heart’s content. 
But a boy of fifteen who had pluck enough for such an 
enterprise, might be expected to succeed in some way 
and at some time, not far distant. 

‘Anxious to find employment, in company with a 
young man by the name of Merrick, about my own age, 


32 FROM POVERTY TO PLENTY; OR, ~ 


I came to Boston. This was during the war of 1812. 
My brother Godfrey had found employment in Dedham, 
which had induced me to try my skill at employment- 
seeking. We did not remain long in Boston, but start- 
ed on foot for Dedham, a distance of twelve miles. 
For a lunch on the way, I bought a sheet of ginger- 
bread, and my companion a loaf of bread. I soon 
found employment with a Dr. Clark, in the south part 
of the town, to take care of his horse, do chores, 
&c., for which I was to'receive four dollars per month. 
From this place I went, in company with the same 
young man, to West Roxbury, where I had heard that a 
Mr. Rollins Freeman wanted a boy to do much the same 
business which I had been doing at Dedham. Both of 
us wanted the place, but I was successful, and was em- 
ployed at six dollars per month. My new employer 
formerly did business in Boston, on Merchants’ Row, 
but during the war his business would not support him ; 
so he hired a house and a small piece of land, on which 
he raised his own vegetables. Here I remained about 
six months. My mother, still in trade, came to Boston 
to purchase her fall goods, and came out to see me. 
She proposed to take all my wages; but at this I demur- 
red, and proposed a compromise, giving her one-half. — 

‘At the end of six months I returned to Orleans 
to attend thanksgiving, walking all the way; and, to 
save expense, stopping at night at farm-houses, instead 
of public houses. The second night after leaving West 


= 


THE LIKE OF DAVID SNOW. 33 


Roxbury I stopped at the house of Mrs. Freeman’s 
- father, in Brewster. 

After remaining at home a few days, my mother sent 
me to Brewster, some eight miles, to get a piece of 
- cloth which she had manufactured and sent there to be 
dressed, from which she made me a new suit of home- 
spun clothes. With these I started on foot for Ded- 
ham, where I spent the winter with Mr. Freeman, 
working for my board, and the privilege of going to 
school, which added a little to my scanty stock of 
learning. 

War at this time was sounding its clarion notes 
through the land, and great excitement everywhere 
prevailed. One day Mr. Freeman returned from Bos- 
ton with two cockades, one for himself and one for me, 
telling me that all the old folks and young must form a 
reserve and be ready to march to Canada at a given 
signal. I was terribly frightened, and had a good cry- 
ing spell over it, only to be laughed at by the cook, and 
reproached for my want of courage. 

Early in February peace was declared, and I came to 
Boston to take passage for Orleans. Being detained in 
Boston, on account of the harbor being frozen, I was 
present to witness the illumination of the town as an 
expression of joy at the termination of the long and 
bloody conflict. 

The war closing, business revived, and there was 
found no cause for idleness. I made a hasty visit to 


34 FROM POVERTY TO PLENTY; OR, 


my mother, remaining long enough to have my clothes 
repaired, and returned to Boston. 


TRYING THE SEA. 


I resolved to follow the sea for a livelihood. A, . 
chance. offering, I shipped as cook on board a schooner 
bound for Philadelphia. I had no experience in cook- 
ing, but was ready to make the experiment and learn. 
I was excessively fond of beefsteak. As the vessel put 
to sea in rough weather, and as I was frying steak for 
breakfast, I continued to taste it until the roll of the 
vessel induced sickness, which speedily emptied my 
well-filled stomach, so that for years afterward steak 
was exceedingly offensive to me. 

On our return, we fell in with a sloop in distress. The 
cotton with which she had been loaded was thrown over- 
board. We took off the men, and picked up a deck- 
load of cotton, which we brought to Boston. A portion 
of this rightly belonged to me; but not understanding 
my rights, or failing to maintain them, I was cheated 
out of all. 

After this I shipped as cook in the brig ‘* Friendship,” 
sailing between Richmond, Va., and Boston, and owned 
by Mr. Wales. I had twenty dollars per month. At 
the close of the voyage the captain expressed his surprise 
that I should have as much money as forty dollars due 
me; but he was told that I had not received any ade: 
vance, as was the custom. 


- THE LIFE OF DAVID SNOW. 35 


FARMING FOR A LIVING. 


Not finding further employment at sea, and anxious 
to be doing something for a living, I started for Boston, 
in company with a townsman of my own age. We re- 
mained in and about the city for some two weeks. At 
first we did not succeed ; but after a time we fell in with 
a farmer who kept a milk-farm, and was in want of a 
man. He offered one of us ten dollars per month until 
the fall work was done; but giving the preference to my 
comrade, I was left still without employment. I re- 
mained in Boston until my money was all gone, and it 
. being Saturday, and not knowing what to do or where 
to go, I started for the before-named farmer, who lived 
at Squantum, eight miles away.. On my way, I asked 
a peddler, who was returning from market, to give me 
a ride. He consented, provided I would pay. I had 
no money, but was not at a loss for some method of 
success. I told him I had no money, but would sing 
for him. He seemed so much pleased with this novel 
method of paying for a ride, that he said to me, ‘* Git 
up here.” I sang all I knew, until I had crossed the Ne- 
ponset bridge, and then I took it on foot. The farmer, 
being a kind-hearted man, on my arrival asked me if I 
was hungry. I told himIwas. He said: «* You must 


” and ordered 


never go hungry in a country like this ; 
his daughter to get me something to eat; to which, 


when prepared, I did ample justice. I offered myself 


36 FROM POVERTY TO PLENTY}; OR, 


to work for the farmer for my board, which offer was 
accepted, and I was put to work in good earnest. We 
were called up at four o’clock in the morning to milk 
the cows. During the day we carted in corn and carted 
out and spread manure. Rockweed was to be carted 
into the yard, and the cows milked again at night. After 
supper we were required to go to the barn and husk 
corn until nine o’clock. This was our daily toil; and, it 
must be confessed, was hard work for board only. 
After a while, my comrade gave out. He declared that 
he would not work all day and all night for ten dollars 
a month; so he packed up his clothes and left for old 
Cape Cod. But I kept on, not knowing that I was to 
receive any thing more than my board, But at the 
end of two months, when the fall work was done, the 
old farmer, like an honest man, said, ** You have been 
a good fellow to work, much better than the other boy, 
and I shall give you ten dollars a month.” With this 
unexpected twenty dollars, a large sum for such a boy 
in those times, I left for Boston, and then went home to 
attend school. 
AGAIN AT SEA. | 

On my return to Boston I shipped as sailor for another 
trip on the ‘‘ Friendship,” at sixteen dollars per month. 
I was always first at the weather reef-gearing, and was 
regarded as one of the smartest hands on board. The 
vessel was loaded with smith coal, and it was the custom 
for the crew to load and discharge the vessel's cargo. 





Alen et: 


dt apes : 






wide ttee WM elide. 





A NARKOW ESCAI’K, 


THE LIFE OF DAVID SNOW. 37 


The coal-dust penetrated everything, and so covered the 
crew that while at Richmond I was taken for a black 
man—a gentleman asking me to whom I belonged. 
My indignation at this personal insult was indescribable. 
While in Richmond I had my fortune told; but I have 
not realized all the promised good or evil pictured to 
my youthful mind by that familiar spirit. When at the 
mouth of the Chesapeake, as we were putting to sea, 
young Merrick and myself were sent aft to haul up the | 
long-boat, which was astern. The vessel was making 
headway at about six knots an hour. We hauled her 
right under the taffrail, and it was necessary for some 
one to’ go down by the painter to shove her off, while 
the other hauled her alongside ; and I, being considered 
the smartest, offered to go, provided my shipmate would 
hold fast the painter. So over the taffrail I went, and 
as I grasped the painter I said to my shipmate, ‘‘ Hold 
on!” But no sooner was my whole weight on the 
painter than he let go, and down I went into mid-ocean. 
The slack of the rope caused the boat to remain without 
moving ahead, and as I came up I had presence of mind 
enough to grasp the gunwale of the boat, just as the 
slack was used up, and being sprightly I climbed into 
the boat and was saved. We had no other boat. 
Jn landing a keg of nails from the long-boat, at City 
Point, —I being in the boat, —the nails were lost over- 
board ; for which act of carelessness ten dollars were de- 


ducted from my wages, this being one-half their value. 
4 


38 FROM POVERTY TO PLENTY; OR, 


On my return to Boston I concluded to abandon the 
idea of a seafaring life. Though my father and brother 
were sailors, I concluded to try my fortune on the land. 


SEA-LIFE ABANDONED. — BECOME A CARPENTER. 


Having abandoned the idea of being a sailor, I re- 
solved to learn the carpenter’s trade, and for this pur- 
pose let myself to a man who resided on Sister Street, 
now Leather Square. His shop was on Water Street, 


on the site of the new post-office building. I rem&ined 


here but six months, not being well pleased with my 
employer. What most displeased me was, after a hard 
day’s work I was required to go to Fort Hill and collect 
swill for the pigs, which seemed to me to be more than 
-[ had bargained for. During the six months I became 
quite familiar with the use of tools, and employed them 
to good purpose afterward. . Here ended another con- 
templated life-work. 


THE BAKER. 


Having abandoned the idea of being a carpenter, I 
resolved to learn the baking business, and engaged my- 
self to John Higgins, my cousin, residing on Back 
Street, now Salem Street, near Dr. Baldwin’s Church, 
now the ‘* Little Wanderer’s Home.” ‘ 


Having been cradled in poverty, I had learned not. 


only to make all I could, but to’save all I could. Con- 


JHE LIFE OF DAVID SNOW. 39 


sequently, after I had finished my daily labor at the 
bakehouse, I might have been seen promenading the 
streets of Boston, with a basket of fancy cake on my 
arm,selling to all whom I could induce to buy; being 
allowed by my employer fifteen per cent. on my sales. 
Among those upon whom I frequently called, and who 
often patronized me, was Mr. Rollins Freeman, with 
whom I had formerly labored. 

I did not remain long with Mr. Higgins, but let my- 
self to Mr. Quincy, a baker, whose place of business 
was on Broad Street, and who baked ship-bread only. 
Here my wages were considerably increased ; but, as is 
frequently the case, I spent more. Thinking that my 
accomplishments were not perfect, I concluded to at- 
tend a dancing-school. Here I became acquainted with 
young men and ladies whose associations did not have a 
tendency to increase my morals or purse ; for at the end 
of six months I left my employer, for want of business, 
with only ten dollars in my pocket. Being out of em- - 
' ployment, and anxious to continue in the same business, 
I formed a co-partnership with a young man; hired a 
bakehouse on Washington Street, and with only ten 
dollars capital, commenced the baking business. With 
the ten dollars I went down to Long Wharf, bought a 
barrel of flour, borrowed a wheelbarrow, and, to save 
twenty-five cents truckage, wheeled it up to the bake- 
house and commenced business in earnest. The barrel 
of flour was soon used up, but not enough had been 


40 FROM POVERTY TO PLENTY; OR, 


realized from it to buy another. My partner, in the 
meantime, declaring that he must have a new suit of 
clothes ; and being told by me that if the money was to 
be taken from the business, it was time we dissolved. 
So the co-partnership came to a sudden close, for want 
of funds. This was the first and only time that I failed 
in business. I learned a good lesson, which has been 
of service to me through life. I made only one failure 
in business. ; 

Closing up business, I returned to Orleans by way of 
Provincetown, where I had relatives living. From 
there I walked to Orleans, mostly on the back side of 
Cape Cod, in company with an uncle, a sea-captain, by 
the name of Page. Mr. Page had.formerly resided in 
Provincetown, but on account of services rendered the 
British squadron, as pilot, during the war, while they 
were at anchor in the harbor through the winter, he be- 
came obnoxious to the people, in consequence of which 
he removed from there to Orleans. 


SECOND MARRIAGE OF MY MOTHER. 


My mother had been a widow for some years. About 
this time she was married to Capt. Gideon Snow. 
Mr. Snow had retired from the sea, and lived on a small 
farm, such as it was. Though married, my mother con- 
tinued to trade as before, receiving such assistance as 
her husband could render. I spent the winter at home, 
attending the district school. 


THE LIFE OF DAVID SNOW. 41 


EARLY LOVE. 


It was during this period that my heart became strong- 
ly attached to a Cape-Cod damsel, in all respects worthy 
of my love; and though it did not result in a matrimo- 
nial alliance, on account of my inability, through poy- 
erty, to sustain such a relation, it left love-scars which 
were never obliterated. The affection was mutual. 
Many years after, when age had drawn its lines upon 
us both, she having been married and well settled in 
life, we met and talked over the days of our youthful 
love, and parted, she for the great West, and I to re- 
main at the Hub, and no more to meet on earth. It was 
poverty which blighted this early love scheme, and to 
rise above it was my determined purpose. It had be- 
come the bane cf my life, and drove me to the adoption 
of every hopeful and honest expedient to make money. 


BECOMES A FISHERMAN. 


After spending a pleasant winter with my mother in 
Orleans, I engaged with Capt. Eldridge, of Harwich, 
for a fishing voyage to the Straits of Belle Isle. The 
outfit being arranged, the crew started from Orleans to 
Edgartown. We walked to Falmouth, or near it, sleep- 
ing in barns by night to save expense. We paid a man 
five dollars to take us across the Sound in an open boat. 
We then walked from Holmes’ Hole to Edgartown, 
where our vessel laid.- Here we stopped one night, and 


42 FROM POVERTY TO PLENTY; OR, 


the next day went on board, to find the vessel entirely 
out of repairs. We set ourselves to fitting her for sea. 
The work being accomplished, we sailed for Boston. 
After taking in supplies for the voyage, we set sail, 
stopping a few days in Orleans to see our friends before 
our final departure. . 2 

At Newfoundland we stopped to take in a summer 
supply of wood. Here we found an old man, who had 
been left by a company to catch salmon. Our captain 
induced him to join our company and become cook, 
with the promise that if he would do so he should marry 
a certain widow at-home. Though the old man did ac- 
tually marry the said widow, the course of the captain 
did not commend itself to my judgment, as the property 
of his employer was, by this course, sacrificed. Hay- 
ing more or less knowledge of the baking business, I 
was employed to do any fancy cooking which might be 
needed, such as frying doughnuts, &c. 

This voyage proved both pleasant and profitable. We 
caught a full cargo of fish, and returned to Cape Cod in 
October. After a brief visit to our homes, we went to 
Holmes’ Hole, where we made our fish, amounting in all 
to about twelve hundred quintals. My share amounted 
to one hundred and fifty dollars. 

A shoresman, who kept a store to supply fishermen, 
had, among other articles of merchandise, pinchback 
and silver watches. I was at an age when young men 
greatly desire to make a show; and never having owned 


THE LIFE OF DAVID SNOW. 43 


a watch, I much desired to purchase one. But not hay- 
ing sold my fish, I had no money. The shopkeeper, 
however, was quite willing to’ trust, as he knew that a 
handsome sum was coming to me from the voyage. Be- 
fore purchasing, I wished to know the difference be- 
tween what appeared to be gold, and the silver watches. 
I was told that after the gold had worn off the silver 
would appear. That being the case, I concluded to take 
the pinchback watch for twelve dollars; which I soon 
found would go only as I carried it. 

After the fish were ready for market, instead of etl 
ing them on the spot, as we could have done, the cap- 
tain insisted on taking them to New York, where he sold 
them for cash, and with the money purchased flour for 
freight to Boston. In the meantime, I returned to Or- 
leans. On my arrival, without clothes, without shoes, 
and without money, with a pinchback watch in my 
pocket, my father-in-law remarked that he thought it 
would have been much more to my credit to have bought 
me a pair of boots; and I felt much so myself. 

When the vessel-arrived in Boston, flour had fallen, 
and my share of one hundred and fifty dollars had been 
reduced to seventy-five; and after deducting twelve 
dollars for the watch, and other expenses, I had but lit- 
tle left. 

- AT SEA AGAIN. 

In the fall of 1821 I came to Boston seeking employ- 

ment, and not finding any in the baking business, and 


44 FROM POVERTY TO PLENTY; OR, 


falling in with an acquaintance of mine from the Cape, 
who was going mate of a schooner to one of the West 
India Islands, I was over persuaded to make another 
voyage. The vessel was about seventy-five tons 
burthen; and the captain being from the Cape, as 
well as another young man who was going before the 
mast, all my pride of being a common sailor was re- 
moved ; and not wishing to be idle, I shipped for the 
voyage. The entire crew consisted of master, mate, 
two sailors, and cook, The mate and myself made 
some purchases as a private adventure on joint account. 
It may be seen by this that there was trade in me. The 
amount invested was about equal to our advance wages, 
and the goods purchased I put in my chest, which, by 
the way, was quite a large piece of furniture for a com- 
mon sailor, such as I was. I had been regularly edu- 
cated as a sailor, serving as cook on two previous voy- 
ages, and, as the sailors say, I was not hauled in through 
the cabin-windows, but through the hawser-hole, and 
was working aft, which I have no doubt I would have 
reached had I continued in the business. But my coal 
voyage, with this, quite discouraged me of a sea life. 

I was in the captain’s watch, and had no one to re- 
lieve me at the helm until the larboard watch was called. 
But my chum, who was in the larboard watch, was occa- 
sionally relieved by the mate. 

We left Boston in the month of December, — very 
cold to stand four hours watch on deck alone. The cap- 


THE LIFE OF DAVID SNOW. 45 


tain would now and then put his head out of the gang- 
way and inquire of me how she headed, and then go 
down into the cabin and roast his feet before the fire, 
while poor Jack, as I was, had to stand alone on deck. 
- In a few days, however, the wind being northwesterly, 
we reached the Gulf Stream, and there was quite a sud- 
den change of the weather. The glass rose to sixty 
degrees above zero; and such was the sudden transition 
from cold to heat, and not having had much rest, I 
_soon lost myself in sleep, and the captain sung out, 
‘¢ How does she head now?” No answer: I was past 
consciousness, having a good time realizing what Dr. 
Young means by 


‘*Balmy sleep, nature’s sweet restorer ; ” 


from which I awoke as from a dream, by the loud 
voice of the captain from the gangway : ‘‘ How does she 
head?” I gpened my eyes, gathered courage, and 
looking at the compass, answered, ‘‘ East-by-south, 
sir,” which was our course per his order. This scene 
soon closed with a severe reproof from the captain for 
sleeping at the helm; and, had there been another sailor 
at his command, I should have been put under arrest. 
Though this was overlooked, I never forgot it, as I was 
taught to obey those who were in authority. 

Our passage, until we reached the trade-winds, was 
rather monotonous, — head winds, calms, and frequent 
showers ‘of rain, as is usual when near the line. 


46 FROM POVERTY TO PLENTY; OR, 


Having made*the island of Antigua, populated and 
owned by the French, and having made the latitude of 
the port of our destination, we changed our course 
from east southerly to south-west, and ran down the 
trade-winds to Curacoa, our port of destination. Cura- 
coa is an island owned and settled by the Dutch, is 
situated in the Carribean Sea, and contains about 
fifteen thousand inhabitants, mostly Roman Catholics. 
The climate is dry and hot, though tempered by a sea 
breeze. Its anuual exports are about $1,200,000. Its 
products are sugar, tobacco, maize, cattle, horses, 
sheep, cocoa, oranges, and various kinds of vegetables. 
In 1600 this island was owned by the Spaniards, was 
taken from them by the Dutch, and then by the English, 
and at the peace of Amiens was restored to the Dutch. 
We remained in port some three weeks. Our cap-. 
tain, who had during the voyage used up his own store 
of liquors, and had drank what was provided for the 
sailors, was quite sober while in port. We discharged 
our cargo and took in another of fustic and coffee. I, 
with my shipmate, had to do all the work; and if we did 
not sweat, there never was any sweating. But we were 
young and healthy, and it did us good. The-day we 
sailed, our captain, getting the better of his fears about 
drinking, commenced again, and by the time we got 
clear of land he was completely under its influence. 
The colors became entangled in the rigging, and the 
mate sent me aloft to clear them, and in so doing I 


THE LIFE OF DAVID SNOW. 47 


hoisted the union down, which, as the sailors say, was 
a sign that the captain was drunk; and such was the 
fact, though I did it ignorantly ; but for it I was punish- 
ed by being sent up to scrape down the main-topmast 
with an old jack-knife. ‘It was a duty uncalled for, and 
being sea-sick, I came near falling overboard. If I had 
‘lost my hold of the rigging, as I was very sea-sick, I 
should have fallen, and my bones would lie where my 
father’s do. 

After we left the Island we had the trade-winds till 
we passed the Morro Passage, which lies between Cuba 
and St. Domingo. We crossed the Bahama Banks, and 
when near Gay Head encountered a terrible gale. We 
lashed the helm; then came a tremendous sea and near- 
ly knocked our vessel bottom side up. The bedding in 
the larboard berth came out on the floor, and the cap- 
tain’s case of Holland gin broke from its moorings un- 
der the table, and the contents of it came on me, — 
gin, bottles, case, and all, —and I thought I was gone 
for it sure, and if we had gone down it would have been 
the last of me; but, as a good Providence would have 

_ it, she righted ; and such a wreck one hardly ever saw. 
There I was, deluged with Holland gin, and covered 
with other debris. I set myself to work clearing up 
the wreck, and in so doing I received a gash on my 
hand, the scar of which lasted me more than twenty 
years. After a while we went on deck. Everything 
was swept clean, —as complete a wreck asI ever saw. I 


48 FROM POVERTY TO PLENTY; OR, 


never shall forget the gin-bottles I fought among. One 

good came of it: the captain was sober the rest of the 

voyage, for the best of. reasons: he could get nothing 

to drink. We soon reached Boston, and our toils of 

sea life were over. This about settled my purpose not’ 
to follow the sea. 

I remained at home during the winter, and in the 
spring returned to Boston, seeking employment at my 
old business. I engaged with Mr. Belcher, of Charles- 
town, at five dollars per week, and remained there 
about six weeks. Mr. Belcher had a rule not to admit 
any one into his house, be he friend or foe, after ten 
o'clock at night. I was seldom out of an evening, but 
on one occasion I went to the City Hall to witness 
some Indian performances, and did not return until near 
eleven o’clock. On my return I found the doors locked 
and I was excluded. Not being willing to sleep out of 
doors, i managed to get in over the bakehouse, and, 
with great difficulty, found my way to my room, by re- 
moving some locks from the doors. Goaded by what 1 
regarded as unnecessary severity, I gave notice the next 
morning that I should leave. Iwas just the man Mr. B. 
needed, and he made an ineffectual effort to induce me 
to remain, and finally refused to pay me what was my 
due. Iwas not the boy to be locked out for no offence ; 
and my employer had mistaken his man when it was too 
late to remedy the evil. Here ended another effort at 
money making. 


THE LIFE OF DAVID SNOW. 49 


ANOTHER FISHING VOYAGE, 


In looking for employment I fell in with a Mr. 
Rogers, a cousin of mine, who had shipped all his crew 
but one man. I soon concluded to ship for another 
voyage to Belle Isle. I received a share of the profits. 
A shipmate named Gould, and myself, who manned 
one boat, were high-lined; that is, caught more fish 
than any other boat. The voyage through the Straits 
in the spring was very pleasant. Large islands of ice, 
with little lakes of water on top of them, covered with 
all kinds of fowl, floated by and around us. We en- 
joyed the sport of shooting the fowl, which proved to 
be our principal food. Finding a good harbor adjoining 
a certain island, we named it ‘‘ Bear Island,” which name 
it has retained until this day. It was a profitable voyage. 

On our return, being the only unmarried man on 
board save one, I was compelled to remain on the vessel 
while the others went home to visit their families. 
Though a little lonely, I amused myself as best I could, 
and on the return of the crew, we sailed for Boston. 
Here we selected a place called ‘‘The Gut,” in the 
lower part of Boston Harbor (now occupied by the 
city for a poorhouse), to make our fish. The land at , 
that time was owned by a Mr. Wheeler. After we had 
cured our fish and come to the city, seeking a market, 
Mr. Wheeler, a man of the old school, came on board 
and demanded pay for the use of his beach. The cap-_ 

5 


50 FROM POVERTY TO PLENTY; OR, 


tain informed him that he had paid one of his tenants. 
The old man, warming with indignation, said: ‘* Cap- 
tain, they don’t pay me my rent. While the hand of 
friendship is extended to them, they pierce me to the 
vitals.” The captain was convinced of the justice of the 
old man’s claim, and said: ‘‘ Boys, tie up the old man 
a quintal of fish.” 

This Mr. Wheeler was, in many respects, peculiar. 
He wore short breeches and white stockings. He was 
the owner of considerable real estate in the vicinity of 
Richmond Street, and also at the South End. His resi- 
dence was where the city library now is. He collected 
his rents weekly, and it is said that he stood watch 
in his house until twelve o’clock at night, and his wife 
the remainder, in order to keep secure their treasures. 

The fish were sold and discharged at Tea Wharf, and 
the crew went whittling away from them. It was a 
common practice in those times among fishermen to 
whittle towards them until they had sold out, and then 
to whittle from them ; and one acquainted with this prac- 
tice could readily tell when a crew had sold their cargo. 

I returned to Orleans richer than ever before, for I 
had saved, as the profits of the two voyages, some ‘two 
hundred dollars. This, or a part of it, I loaned to 
a Mr. Jarvis, the town fiddler, a man of considerable 
notoriety in those times. I confess to a feeling of 
no little self-importance at having money at interest. 
This was the first money I ever loaned, and with this 


THE LIFE OF DAVID SNOW. 51 


commenced the practice of saving and making every 
dollar earn something. I remained at home during the 
winter, attending the town school, and still keeping up 
my acquaintance with my then beloved Naby, being not 
quite willing to give her up. This I regarded as the 
most pleasant winter I ever spent in my native town. 
My brother Godfrey, who had left the sea, and had 
emigrated to the State of Ohio and taken up a quarter 
section of land, settled upon it, and married a wife, had 
written me to come out and see the country. It was at 
a time when many were emigrating to that then far-off 
State. But I did not see my way clear to go at that time. 


BAKING AGAIN. 


In the following spring I began to think seriously of 
settling down in some business. I went to Boston and 
there tried very hard to get work at my old trade— 
baking. Failing to secure employment, and having 
been idle some two weeks, I offered my services to one 
Mr. Goodrich, who carried on a small baking business 
on Ann Street, to work for my board, as he declined to 
hire. My offer was accepted and I was put to splitting 
new spruce wood and helping to put in the batches; 
and as I was for work, and not play, I went at it in 
good earnest, —my employer soon finding that he had 
secured a good man. 

After two weeks of such service, I engaged to take 
charge of a bakehouse in Nantucket, as foreman, for five 


52 FROM POVERTY TO PLENTY; OR, 


dollars per week. I notified Mr. Goodrich of my good 
fortune, and he, like an honest man, paid me three dollars 
per week for my services, which was a journeyman’s 
wages ; and I left with a merry heart for my new home. 

Mr. Short, my new employer, was an unmarried 
man, from Newburyport, and kept a sort of bachellor’s © 
hall. He was a genuine Yankee, up to all manner of 
tricks. Nantucket was, at that time, at the height of 
her prosperity. It took the lead of all other places in 
the whaling business. This was chiefly carried on by 
the Quakers, a very honest and industrious people. 
There being a good deal of rivalry among the bakers, Mr. 
Short called them all together and induced them to enter 
into a contract, not to bake for less than one dollar and 
fifty cents per barrel. Getting them pledged to this ar- 
rangement, he then went to the ship-owners and agreed 
to make a discount of ten cents per barrel, and in this 
way secured most of the business. For some time the 
honest Quaker bakers did not understand the trick; but 
when it was discovered their indignation was unbounded, 
at the meanness of so base a traitor. It finally turned 
to his disadvantage, as he eventually lost his business, 
removed to Baristable, and for some time was a jour- 
neyman baker in my employ. He learned in the end, 
that ‘‘ honesty is the best policy.” 

I remained with Mr. Short during the summer, hay- 
ing made a contract with him to drive a bread cart and 
sell fancy bread in and around the town, receiving for 


THE LIFE OF DAVID SNOW. 53 


the same a commission of ten per cent. I came to Bos- 
ton, purchased a horse and bake-cart, and returned to 
commence a somewhat new business. 


? 


‘¢ Sheep-shearing day,” in those times, was a great 
day in Nantucket. The island was a great place for 
raising sheep, and on sheep-shearing day the people, 
en masse, turned out to witness the performance. It 
was a favorable time for my business. With my cart 
loaded with a great variety of cake I was present to 
supply the people, On this occasion I made an effort 
to see how much I could save in the matter of making 
change, on the half and quarter cent. At night I found, 
on examination, that I had saved seventy-five cents. 
This taught me howI could save a penny, and this prac- 
tical lesson I have followed through life. And my 
counsel to young men is, if you want to get any thing 
ahead, you must save the pennies. It is an old and 
trite maxim, but nevertheless true, ‘‘ Save the pennies 
and the dollars will take care of themselves.” 


SETTING UP BUSINESS FOR MYSELF. 


I did not continue long in Mr. Short’s employ, but 
determined to set up business for myself. I hired a 
building and arranged to reconstruct it into a bakehouse. 
Before doing this, I visited Hartford, Conn., and Long 
Island, to ascertain the prospects for setting up the bak- 
ing business there ; these being places where the whal- 


ing business was carried on to some extent. I did not 


54 FROM POVERTY TO PLENTY; OR, 


find a favorable opening on Long Island, and returned 
to Hartford, where I spent some ten days. Here I pur- 
chased a quantity of crackers, hay, and butter, and re- 
turned to Nantucket. 

During my stay in Hartford I attended a meeting, in 
company with the landlord and boarders of the house 
where I was stopping, and heard preach, for the first 
time, the famous John N. Maffitt. He had been preach- 
ing in New Haven with great success, and was attract- 
ing crowds, and much religious interest prevailed. At 
the close of his sermon he inquired if there were any 
present who wished to be prayed for. After some 


urging, two young ladies stood up. Mr. Maffitt then ~ 


said: «* When I return to New Haven I will go into my 
closet and tell the Lord that I went to Hartford and 
preached, and only two stood up and asked me to pray 
for them.” He then went on to say: ‘* Are there only 
two in this large audience who desire to be remembered 
in my prayers?” Then another and another stood up, 
until nearly all in the house were on their feet, and I 
among the rest. After our return to our boarding- 
house, the landlord was quite indignant to think that 
Mr. Maflitt had managed to get them all up as seekers 
of religion. This was my first move in the direction 
of seeking the Lord. 

I returned to Nantucket, stored my hay, and com- 
menced peddling out-my crackers and butter; at the 
same time making arrangements to build an oven on my 


THE LIFE OF DAVID SNOW. 55 


leased land. In the meantime, unknown to me, Mr. 
Short, fearing that the new baker would seriously inter- 
fere with his business, so excited the fears of Mr. Bar- 
rett, a dry-goods merchant, with regard to being burned 
up by my bakehouse, that he and Short bought me off 
for three hundred dollars, taking all my stuff, and I 
signing a bond to leave the Island and never return 
to it; which promise I kept to the letter; though ten 
years after, Mr. Barrett sent me word that if I would 
refund the money I might come back. My reply was: 
‘¢ No, sir.” 
Here ends another chapter in my life. 


CHAPTER VI. 


A WESTERN ADVENTURER. 


*¢ ABROAD in the world, like a shadow 
I pass, and am passed in my turn. 
I have friends, and they vow that they love me 
Far better than praise, or than pelf, — 
I trust them to-day; and to-morrow 


I leave to take care of myself.” 
— Miss Jewsbury. 


I HAD for a long time earnestly desired to visit my 

only brother, residing in Indiana. Now that I was 
out of employment I resolved to respond to his oft-re- 
peated invitation to come to the great, great West. It 
was a land of promise, but a land far away; and to 
leave home for so distant a region was much like bid- 
ding farewell to all one held dear, with little hope of 
meeting on earth again. 

After adjusting matters as well as I could, I collected 
my funds together, — amounting in all to about three 
hundred and twenty-five dollars,—and shipped on 
board a sloop bound to Philadelphia, to work my pas- 


sage. When off Long Island, in a gale, we came near 
56 


THE LIFE OF DAVID SNOW. OG 


being wrecked, by being run into by a mackerel schooner. 
J was in the cabin at the time, and hearing the crew on 
the schooner scream and halloo, I came on deck in time 
to see our danger. We but narrowly escaped a collision 
which must have sunk us. <A feeling of devout thank- 
fulness to God filled -my heart that then and there I did 
not find a watery grave. 

On my arrival in Philadelphia, I engaged a passage 
by stage to Pittsburg. I spent the might in Philadel- 
phia, paying fifty cents for lodging at a hotel; which 
sum I regarded as a most extravagant price, as I had 
never paid the like before. Here I changed my money 
to U. S. currency, which was good everywhere. 

The road over the mountains at this time was very 
rough. Corduroy roads were numerous, and no one 
need be told of their character who has had the misfor- 
tune to ride over them; and to those who have not, no 
adequate description of them can be given. Five or six 
days of such travel brought us to the dingy, soot-cov- 
ered city of Pittsburg, — the first city I had ever visited 
where bituminous coal was the only fuel. In this city 
I found myself far away from home and friends; out in 
the wide, wide -world, all alone. It was, in some re- 
spects, a new experience for me. I was a youthful ad- 
ventier, resolved to win; but to do so, courage, or 
pluck, was needful, and in this quality I was not defi- 
cient. 


I remained in Pittsburg a few days, watching, on the 


58 FROM POVERTY TO PLENTY; OR, 


banks of the river, flat-boats of all kinds as they passed, 
crowded with families going West. After I had satisfied 
my curiosity, I purchased a small dory-boat, for which I 
paid three dollars. Placing my little trunk, which con- 
tained all my effects, in this small craft, I put off for 
Lawrenceburg, Indiana, a distance of about five hundred 
miles. The river being high, the current was rapid, so 
that with the aid of my oars I made from thirty to forty 
miles a day. At night I would land near some log 
cabin, haul up my boat, and with my trunk on my 
shoulder, start for the cabin. When near, I would hal- 
loo to the house-keeper,-who would come out and keep 
the dogs at bay, while I advanced to the cabin. 

Nearly every log cabin in those days was a tavern 
for the entertainment of travellers. The people were 
friendly, and their latch-string was always out. I took 
a gentleman as passenger, whom I learned, after our 
departure, was a professional gambler, on his way to 
New Orleans, to ply his trade. He left me, however, 
after two.or three days, for a larger boat. 

On the Ohio river in those days, bacon and eggs, 
baked venison, mush and milk, were the ordinary diet ; 
and not at all unpalatable to one who had been alone 
all day on the river pulling away at the oars. In this 
way I journeyed down the river until I came up #ith a 
man with a covered boat, going West. I took passage 
in this boat and assisted in working it. My speed was 
retarded somewhat, as this boat only moved with the 
current. 


-_- 


“ISHM DNIOY 





















































THE LIFE OF DAVID SNOW. 59 


In about two weeks I reached Lawrenceburg. On 
my arrival in this town, I stopped all night with a Mr. 
Hunt, and on the following morning started on foot a 
distance of ten miles, to find my brother Godfrey, whom 
I had not seen for several years ; during which time he 
had married a New-York lady, by the name of Finch, 
and they had. one daughter. He had entered and paid 
for a quarter section (one hundred and sixty acres), at 
one dollar and twenty-five cents per acre. His land 
was situated near that of his wife’s father and-brother. 
He had greatly changed in appearance: hard work had 
left its marks on him. He had built two log houses; 
one he rented, and the other was occupied in common 
by himself and an old man and his wife. The old man 
and his good lady slept in one corner, Godfrey and his 
wife in another, and I had my bed at the foot of my 
brother’s. In this manner — exercising a good deal of 
the spirit of accommodation — we moved on in domes- 
tic harmony. It did not seem to me to possess all the 
refinements of Cape Cod, but it was in harmony with 
Western backwoods life in those days. 

With plenty of wood, the old man and myself busied 
ourselves in keeping good fires, which were a great lux- 
ury to a son of Cape Cod. I spent quite a pleasant 
winter, attending that very common gathering of coun- 
try lads and lasses—an old-fashioned singing-school, 
about three miles away. 

My brother’s wife had two sisters, and to one or both 


60 FROM POVERTY TO PLENTY; OR, 


of these I became, as is common, quite ardently attach- 
ed, spending long evenings with them, making, profes- 
sedly, maple sugar, but having much sweeter chats with 
them after their return from singing-school, and the old 
folks had retired. 

It was a woods country, with deer and wolves in 
abundance. Often at night I heard the hideous howl 
of wolves in my brother’s turnip-patch, which was not 
the sweetest music for my ear. 

After a month spent in visiting my brother, I began 
to look about for something to do, as it was not in my 
nature to remain idle for any length of time. The pros- 
pect of becoming rich by farming did not appear very 
hopeful. If I should buy land and cultivate it there 
was no market for my produce. Corn was worth only 
ten cents per bushel on the ear, and flour three dollars 
a barrel. Pork was worth only one cent per pound. 
Pork and corn bread was the chief food. I had a 
trade at which I could work. I was a baker. 

Going to Lawrenceburg with my brother, I leased a 
lot of land with the intention of building a bake-house 
thereon. 

During the winter I was engaged in splitting shin- 
gles, and hauling logs to a mill some three miles away. 
I think this was about the time Abraham Lincoln com- 
menced splitting rails and studying law in Illinois, and 
who knows, had I united Blackstone with shingle split- 
ting, where I might have come out. But my luck did 


THE LIFE OF DAVID SNOW. 61 


not seem to run in that groove, for I never was much 
of a politician, and somewhat question whether a man 
can be a successful one and retain his integrity. It was 
my lot to work hard for my bread. 

Becoming quite intimate with the owner of the mill, 
who appeared to be something of a trader, I struck up 
a bargain with him, exchanging that famous pinchback 
watch, which would only go when carried, for a rifle. 
With this rifle I amused myself in shooting deer and 
wolves ; the latter very seriously infesting the country 
at that time. 

Schools and churches were then almost unknown in 
the West. I occasionally attended a church, some six 
miles away. It was built of logs. The seats were 
made of logs split in two, with legs at the ends, and 
the round side of the log for a seat. For church sleep- 
. ers such seats would be most uncomfortable, 

Religion was ata low ebb. About the only preach- 
ing in the West at that time was by the Methodists. The 
Methodist preacher followed the pioneer, and called his 
attention to his soul’s salvation about as soon as his 
cabin was erected. Having been brought up among 
the Presbyterians on Cape Cod, I had seen and heard 
little of the Methodists. I had occasionally attended 
Methodist meetings while at Nantucket, but I had very 
little interest in religious matters, and seldom cared to 
attend church. 


Methodist camp-meetings and quarterly meetings 
Ge 


62 FROM POVERTY TO PLENTY; OR, 


were quite common; the people going frequently five 
or six miles to attend a quarterly meeting. In 1823 
the Methodists held a camp-meeting in a grove, three 
miles from Lawrenceburg. I attended this meeting most 
of the time. It was unlike a Martha’s Vineyard, but it 
was what might be looked for in the wild West, where, 
as yet, the council fires of the red man were smoulder- 
ing, and the smoke of the wigwam has scarcely mingled 
with the clouds of heaven. People came from far and 
near, and slept in covered wagons, or in tents made of 
boughs or cloth: men and women in considerable num- 
bers occupying the same tent. There were no family. 
tents as now. A rude stand was built of logs; and 
seats, more primitive than comfortable, were built of 
logs split and laid upon cross timbers. I was not very 
favorably impressed with the camp-meeting; but one 
fact which made a deep impression upon my mind I 
will relate. There was present a lawyer of some note, 
by the name of Lane, father of James Lane, of Kansas 
notoriety. This man was from New England. He 
had married a Connecticut lady, and had quite a large 
family of small children. His wife was, without doubt, 
the man of the house, and loaned me, many a time, 
their horse to go to Cincinnati. Under a very power- 
ful sermon, this man was seen rushing to the altar, or 
anxious seats, as they were called. Some one informed 
his wife of what her husband had done, when she at 
once followed him, and they there both sought the 
Lord. 


THE LIFE OF DAVID SNOW. 63 


When the spring opened, with my brothers oxen 
I carted his shingles and boards to Lawrenceburg. 
Though I enjoyed the winter very well, and formed 
some pleasant acquaintances, I was unwilling to make 
that my home, settle down upon a quarter section, get 
married as my brother had done, and spend my life in 
felling trees, splitting rails to fence my farm, and mak- 
ing shingles. I wanted more excitement—a more ac- 
tive life. It is evident that Providence intended me for 
active business ; and, though I was a long time getting 
on the right track, by trying almost everything I at 
last found my place. 

I made a contract with a carpenter to put me up a 
building and build an oven, preparatory to commencing 
the baking business, in connection with some little 
trade. My brother arranged to go into business with 
me. He sold his farm and purchased a house and lot 
in the city, and removed his family. But an opportu- 
nity presenting to go to New Orleans on a coal boat, he 
accepted, and consequently gave up the idea of going 
into business with me. The store was soon finished 
and I commenced the baking business and trade, on a 
small scale. I frequently went to the river to see the 
steamers pass. One day a small boat stopped opposite 
where I was standing, loaded with an assortment of 
groceries, such as were adapted to a country trade. I 
entered into conversation with a view to a trade, which 
resulted in a co-partnership between me and a Mr. 


64 FROM POVERTY TO PLENTY; OR, 


Bowers, a son of a New England Episcopal clergyman. 
He was worth about the same that I was. We continued 
in trade about one year, and dissolyed, Mr. Bowers 
setting up in business in a store adjoining, and in the 
mean time marrying, while I kept on in business alone. 
In fact I seem never to have done as well in partnership _ 
as when alone. My partners were never of any benefit 
tome. Iscemed to be a sort of a machine which al- 
ways run much better alone. I was possessed of the 
capacity of sailor and captain; was a good buyer and 
seller, and had a good knowledge of human nature, in 


business ; 





a subject which I made my constant study. 
But with all my shrewdness I made some mistakes. 
He would not have been human that did not. 


A BAD SPECULATION. 


Every man must have his day at speculation. It is 
a fever which in most cases, so far as I know, has its 
run. There is only one remedy which can cure it, and 
that is failure ; and it often requires many a dose of this 
nauseous drug to effect a permanent cure. I tried my 
hand at it in the far West. 

There was manufactured in the country an article of 
cloth, called ** linsey-woolsey,” made of wool, linen, ete, 
It was a coarse cloth. <A friend of mine by the name 
of Morgan had removed to Indianapolis, a new town 
just laid out by the State as its capital. It was about 


THE LIFE OF DAVID SNOW. 65 


thirty miles from any settlement. But in view of its 
-becoming the capital, large numbers were flocking 
thither and purchasing lands. This young man had 
purchased a quarter section a little out of the city. 
There accompanied him a young man of my acquaint- 
ance, by whom [I sent sixteen yards of ‘‘ linsey-wool- 
sey,” 
me sixteen silver dollars, and reported that the demand 


b) 


on speculation. On his return he paid over to 


was good. Such profits and such a report had the ten- 
dency to stir up all the Yankee blood in this Cape Cod 
adventurer. Engaging the young man to keep shop, I 
went to Cincinnati and purchased two hundred yards 
of this famous cloth, for which I paid from thirty-five 
to fifty cents per yard. ; 

Yankee like, I bought two dozen almanacs to pay my 
fare out and back. I loaned a horse of one Morgan, 
brother of the man who had moved out to White River, 
or Indianapolis. 

My cloth made two large rolls; these I put astride 
the saddle, and off I started for Indianapolis, a hundred 
miles away, with a splendid fortune in prospect. It 
was to be a sure thing. I made, through the then wild 
and rough country, from twenty-five to thirty miles a 
day. Only now and then was there a cleared patch 
and a little log hut, on the way. At about two o’clock 
in the afternoon of the last day I came to the last house 
on the route, still thirty miles from Indianapolis. But 
so greatly was I excited over the prospect of what I 


66 FROM POVERTY TO PLENTY; OR, 


expected to make, that I could not be induced to stop 
over, though knowing I could not reach the town till 
about midnight. I put out, with only an Indian trail 
for a road, and not even a log cabin in the way. 

Walking beside my old horse about nine o’clock at 
night, I was startled by a pack of wolves or. deer, I 
could not tell which, crossing my path a few feet in 
advance. The thought that they were wolves almost 
started the hair on my head. I mounted my horse, as 
though that would be a safe protection, not reaiizing 
that I and my horse together would hardly be a satis- 
factory meal for a pack of hungry wolves. 

Not feeling over and above comfortable the rest of - 
the journey, as one would not, with any tolerable pros- 
pect of being eaten by wolves, and no one to tell the 
sad story, I pressed on in fear and trembling. Suffice 
it to say, I was not eaten of wolves, but about ten o’clock 
at night I made a distant light, and began to take 
courage, judging that my time had not yet come to be 
devoured by wild beasts. I-rode down one of the princi- 
pal streets, in which the stumps were thickly settled, 
and put up at a log hotel, —some half dozen log huts 
adjoining each other. I was quartered in a lawyer's 
office for the night. 

I was here to make my fortune by the sale of two 
hundred yards of ‘linsey-wolsey ;” but, to my great 
sorrow, I found that some lucky fellow had stepped in 
before me and supplied the market. I was in trouble. 


as 
- ei. 








LINSEY-WOOLSEY AT AUCTION. 


a 


THE LIFE OF DAVID SNOW. 67 


What to do I did not know. It was Friday night, and 
something must be done at once. So I arranged for an 
auction, engaged a printer, who had just arrived, to 
print me some handbills, fixing the time of sale, Mon- 
day, at two p.m. Having made all proper arrange- 
ments for the auction, I went a short distance down the 
river to visit my friend Morgan, with whom I spent the 
Sabbath. On Monday morning I returned to the city 
in company with Mr. Morgan, to attend the auction. 
At the appointed time I mounted the auction block and 
became my own auctioneer. I made every effort to 
sell, but it was no go. The bids did not come, and 
those that did, did not cover cost. The landlord, see- 
ing my sad condition, to comfort me, said that there 
was little doubt but what there would be a demand for 
the goods soon. I managed to sell enough to pay my 
expenses back to Lawrenceburg, and left the balance 
with the landlord, to be disposed of to the best advan- 
tage. That was the end of my ‘* linsey-woolsey ” specu- 
lation, for the landlord failed soon after, and with that 
failure all my anticipated fortune in this adventure per- 
ished. 

My homeward journey the next day. was with a sad 
heart and a downcast countenance, not having even 
disposed of all my almanacs. The poor horse was not 
much better off than his rider, as both were pretty 
thoroughly used up. 

On the morning of my return, entering the store, the 


. 


68 FROM POVERTY TO PLENTY}; OR, 


young man who had acted as clerk during my absence 
concluded he had done quite well, as he had, from the 
sale of goods, been able to fill the tea-cup with silver. 
But on going to the place where the cup was kept, it 
being behind a roll of cotton cloth, to our astonishment 
we found that some one in the early part of the evening 
had discovered where the cup was kept, and had pocket- 
ed the silver. It was pretty well known who the thief 
was, —a professed gambler in the neighborhood, — but 
no evidence could be adduced of his guilt. This Indi- 
anapolis speculation in ‘‘ linsey-woolsey” was unfortu- 
nate. Had I let well enough alone I would have been 
two hundred dollars better off. But it was a lesson I 
never forgot. This speculation reduced my capital to 
about two hundred dollars, but it reduced my spirits — 
vastly more. : 

Discharging the young man from my employ, and 
reducing my expenses in every way, with strict atten- 
tion to business, in the course of six months I regained 
the amount lost. My desire for speculation was, by 
this movement, greatly modified, but not wholly de- 
stroyed; for, in advanced life, I find the remains of 
that desire still existing. 

I had thought at this time of studying law, and went 
so far as to read Blackstone through with one Hitch-. 
cock, who was originally from New England. But law 
did not seem to suit my genius, and money seemed to 
be too far ahead on that line for me. I was intent on 


THE LIFE OF DAVID SNOW. 69 


making money. Not being satisfied with the law, and 
being equally dissatisfied with the retail grocery busi- 
ness, I entertained the idea of risking my all in buying 
and loading a boat with flour, bacon and whiskey, 
and going:to New Orleans. My brother Godfrey hay- 
ing just returned from that city, encouraged me in this 
- enterprise, and said if I would go, he would accompany 
me and act as pilot. Going to Cincinnati, I purchased 
a keel boat, seventy-five feet long, and loaded her with 
flour, bacon, corn-meal and whiskey, and returned with 
her to Lawrenceburg, closed up my business, and sold 
out my stock to my old partner, Bowers. After my 
_ boat was loaded and I all ready to leave, an old cus- 
tomer sought to extort money from me, on the plea 
that I had sold his tobacco and had not accounted to 
him fully for the same. But as good. fortune would 
have it, my friend Morgan became bondsman for me, 
and I said to my self as I started for New Orleans that 
I would either lose the saddle and bridle or win the 
horse; but in the end I did neither. 

I never before really felt what it was to have a friend 
in need. Had not Mr. Morgan come forward and be- ° 
come surety for me, I should have been compelled to 
abandon my trip or to pay an unjust debt. This act of 
kindness I never forgot. It made a deep impression 
upon my sensitive nature. This Morgan was the son 
of a widow with whom Bowers, my partner, and I, 
boarded. She came from New England. Bowers 


70. FROM POVERTY TO PLENTY; OR, 


married her daughter, but the old lady frequently 
gave me to understand that she should much rather 
have me than Bowers for a son-in-law; but I had 
resolved never to marry until I had got over my roving 
disposition, and settled in business. Though I was a 
sort of a cosmopolite, having no abiding place, I did 
not forget the kind act of Morgan, but came a thousand 
miles from New Orleans on purpose to meet this obliga- 
tion, amounting to only twenty dollars. This was an 
act of which I ever felt proud. The feeling of gratitude 
seemed inborn in me, and I would never let a man suf- 
fer who had put confidence in me. 

Everything being in readiness, with my brother for 
a pilot, and four men to work the boat, I put out for 
New Orleuns, in the month of August, the most sickly 
part of the season. The river being low, the fever 
and ague, or intermittent fever, was almost sure to at- 
tack a person unacclimated. The crew, being more or 
less exposed, very soon became sick, rendering it ne- 
cessary to ship others. The channel of the river being 
both crooked and shifting, our boat often grounded on 
a sand-bar, and we were obliged to get overboard and 
push her up stream until we had again found the chan- 
nel. This exposure induced sickness among the crew. 
After about a week of this kind of toil, we reached 
Louisville, Ky. The water being very low we were 
obliged to unload and cart our stuff around the 
falls ; and when this was done, it was with no little dif- 


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THE LIFE OF DAVID SNOW. 71 


ficulty that we managed to get the boat over the rocks, 
the water being but eight inches deep. This was a de- 
lay somewhat unexpected. 

After eight or ten days delay, our boat was reloaded, 
and we were on our way again for New Orleans, not 
knowing what further trials awaited us. When the men 
were sufficiently sober, we made, by the aid of the cur- 
rent and the use of oars, about three miles an hour. 
But liquor drinking among the men gave me a great 
amount of trouble. Had I not been on the Mississippi 
River, with all my earthly store on board a flat-boat, 
unable to manage it alone, I would not have endured it. 
But necessity was upon me, and I was obliged to sub- 
mit, or do worse. The river water being unhealthy, 
whiskey drinking was thought to be quite excusable ; 
and whiskey being a part of the cargo, a barrel was 
kept constantly on tap for the men, and they were al- 
lowed to drink as much as they pleased. It was not a 
very expensive beverage, as it was worth at that time 
only ten cents per gallon. The men worked well until 

_they were nearly beastly drunk, and then they would 
commence a general row, and to prevent a fight I would 
run my vessel into a sand-bar in the river, and let them 
and the mosquitoes, which were marvellously numerous, 
fight it out together. We usually hauled up at night 
at some little village on the bank of the river, traded a 
little, got our stores replenished, and prepared for the 
following day. 


- 


72 FROM POVERTY TO PLENTY; OR, 


Being very much exposed, my brother Godfrey and 
myself both took the fever and ague. We had waded 
in the Ohio and Mississippi rivers for nearly two hun- 
dred miles, in pushing the boat off of sand-bars, and 
were pretty thoroughly used up. 

When about fifty miles above Natchez, having already 
been on the river some thirty days, we heard, to our 
great dismay, that the yellow fever was there. We 
stopped at a plantation not far from Port Gibson, to se- 
cure more perfect information with regard to the fever ; 
proposing to remain there until the river should rise, it 
being now about the middle of September. 

I unloaded my boat and stored my cargo on the plan- 
tation, leaving only my furniture and tools, which the 
negroes soon stole, necessitating a new outfit if I had 
gone to New Orleans with my boat. . 

The owner of the cotton plantation where I stopped 
had recently died, and the overseer carried it on. It 
was in the height of cotton picking, and each slave, 
without distinction, was required to pick so many 
pounds of cotton per day, or receive so many lashes . 
upon the bare back at night. This, to me, was a most 
disgusting sight, especially when inflicted on females. 
After the lash had been administered, the overseer, in 
order to reproduce a good state of feeling among the 
slaves, would get out his violin and cause them to dance 
at the sound of his music. 

We stopped at this plantation some two weeks, and 


THE LIFE OF DAVID SNOW. 73 


then removed to Fort Gibson. We took some twenty 
barrels of flour, hired a room, and commenced keeping 
bachellor’s hall and disposing of the flour. Here I was 
attacked with the fever and ague. Having found out 
what medicine was given for this disease, I went to the 
druggist and purchased an ounce and took it, in order 
to save the expense of employing a physician. Having 
an iron constitution, which resisted disease, I partially 
recovered, but was never fully cured until I returned to 
New England. 

During our stay at Fort Gibson, the town was visited ~ 
almost daily by a portion of a tribe of wild Indians. 
They came to buy whiskey, and when under its influence © 
their hideous yells made them objects of dread. 

After selling out my flour at Fort Gibson, I returned 
to a high point of land near the before-mentioned plan- 
tation, and boarded about two weeks with a Baptist 
family from Connecticut. The Sabbath was almost un- 
known. Instead of attending church, the people spent 
their Sabbaths in bear and wild-boar hunting. 

At this time my brother Godfrey left me and took 
passage on board a flat-boat for New Orleans. He had 
purchased and taken a boat-load of coal to New Orleans 
in midsummer, and finding no demand for it, left it. 
He now went down to look after it. Falling in with a 
gentlemen on the boat who claimed to be a coal-broker, 
he intrusted to him the sale of his coal. The man sold 


it, pocketed the money, and was never seen afterwards 
7 


74 FROM POVERTY TO PLENTY > OR, 


by my brother, who was left almost penniless. When 
I arrived in New Orleans, some two weeks afterwards, 
I found my brother selling West-India fruit, such as 
bananas, &c., at a public stand. 


SLAVERY AS I SAW IT. 


There became acquainted with the working of slavery 
as never before. When in Indiana, the slaves used to 
cross the Ohio River to trade. They would come about 
midnight, with as much bacon as they could carry, and 
rap gently at the door, saying, ‘‘ Master, we want to 
trade.” The articles most in demand would be bleached 
cotton cloth and morocco shoes of large size. These 
were for their sweethearts, or for some one who was 
to be married. I learned that a slave scarcely ever 
married one on the same plantation. Their morals — 
were very low. They would steal right before your 
eyes. But the slaves in Kentucky were of a higher ~ 
grade than in Louisiana. My brother and I had our 
quarters with the overseer. He was always very social 
with us, but he treated the slaves of his deceased em- 
ployer very much as some men treat beasts of burden. 
The white man of the South did not think much more 
of a slave than he did of his dog, if, indeed, he did as 
much. They were allowed so much corn a week, which 
they had to prepare for food by pounding in a mortar and 
baking on a board by the fire. This they must do after 


THE LIFE OF DAVID SNOW. 75 


they had toiled all day picking cotton; and then sleep 
in a log hut, on the straw. Truly, of all men, they 
were the most miserable. They had no care bestowed 
upon them unless to fix them up a little for market. 
In that State most of the planters had their slaves locat- 
ed near them. Passing down the Mississippi, you | 
would, every now and then, pass a plantation which 
looked like a village ; the slave-holder’s house being in 
the centre, painted white, with its veranda around it. 

In after years, when a merchant in Boston, and doing 
more or less business in Virginia, one time on my way 
to Richmond from Alexandria there came on board the 
cars a man with half a dozen slaves of both sexes, who 
looked as if they had been badly treated; but, as he 
was on his way with them to market, they were dressed 
up very neatly. On my arrival at Richmond, almost 
the first thing I saw that attracted my attention was a 
slave auction ; and, seeing a crowd gathering, Yankee- 
like, I went in with the rest, though not a slave buyer. 
I learned here that there were a class of men who made 
it their business to come North as far as Virginia, to 
buy slaves for the southern market, as: Virginia was 
what was called a slave-breeding state. 

Looking around the auction-room, to my surprise, I 
saw the very slaves for sale that I had seen the day be- 
fore. The room was nearly full of the hardest looking 
set I ever saw, smoking, chewing, swearing, ete. Very 


soon a woman was put up for sale, and one after another 


76 FROM POVERTY TO PLENTY; OR, 


of these brutes of men would go on to the platform and 
examine her as you would examine an animal, to see if 
they were sound, or if they had any scars where they 
had been whipped, ‘all of which was disgusting to a 
Northern man, and I left the auction-room in perfect 
disgust of slavery in its worst form, here witnessed. 


But to return to my narrative. 

I went up the river daily some six or eight miles to 
watch for a boat bound down the river. Finally I 
hailed a flat-boat from Kentucky bound to New Orleans, 
loaded with live turkeys. I engaged this boat to take 
my flour, and what of my stock of goods were left, to 
New Orleans, and left the plantation for good, slaves 
and all. . as 






It being the season for ripe oranges, the captain « 
the boat would frequently haul up and exchange a s 
turkey for the delicious fruit ; and now and then sell 
barrel of sour meal, which, on account of the abundance 
of salt it contained, could not be distinguished from the. 
good. We finally arrived safely at New Orleans, where 
I sold out the balance of my flour to a gentignas wha 
shipped it to Savannah. a 

After closing up the business of the trip, I found my- AS 
self in possession of about four hundred dollars, being 
about the same amount with which I started. This, I 
confess, was not a very brilliant speculation. I at e 
took passage on board a steamer for Louisville, stop- 


THE LIFE OF DAVID SNOW. 77 


ping at Natchez to exchange my currency for gold and 
silver. Having secured the specie, I gave the clerk of 
the boat one per cent. to keep it for me. The boat 
was crowded with persons who were returning from 
New Orleans, having been there to sell produce. 

On these boats were always to be found large numbers 
of professed gamblers, seeking to draw into their net 
men who had a little money and less wisdom, and they 
very often succeeded, so that frequently men who left 
New Orleans with a considerable sum, before they 
-reached Louisville had lost it all. Night and day as 
they moved up the Mississippi, gambling, drinking, 
and what is called ‘high life below stairs,” was the 
common practice, making it a floating earthly hell. 

It was one of the conditions that deck passengers 
help wood-up at each stopping place. I, being a deck 
passenger, was obliged to do my part. 

On my arrival at Louisville, I engaged passage on 
board another steamer for Lawrenceburg, where I ar- 
rived safely, after a few days, with my four hundred 
dollars and a barrel of oranges, which I purchased in 
New Orleans. 
~ L engaged board with Mrs Morgan, my old landlady, 
and then hired a small room, and with my barrel of 
oranges, which was my present stock in trade, com- 
menced business. 

I seem to have been born to trade. It was my life. 
I could not be idle, ‘and whenever I moved it was in 


78 FROM POVERTY TO PLENTY; OR, 


the direction of trade. I seriously contemplated engag- 
ing in business, either in Lawrenceburg or Cincinnati, 
but a very sad event occurred which thwarted my in- 
tentions. 


DEATH OF MY ONLY BROTHER. 


I received the unexpected intelligence that my only 
brother, Godfrey, had been suddenly killed on board 
the steamer ‘‘ Velocipede,” on her way up the Mississippi 
River. The manner of his death was appalling. He 
was caught in the machinery and instantly carried 
through a place not more than six inches wide, literally 
tearing him into fragments, and leaving him a shapeless 
mass of human flesh and bones. His remains were 
gathered up and buried by strangers at Big Bend, and 
a simple board marked the place where they laid him. 
This sad event produced a profound impression upon 
my mind. I was in doubt what to do. ‘ 

I had now been absent from New England about 
three years, and it was not strange that in this hour of 
affliction my mind should turn towards the home of my _ 
mother and only sister. But, undecided as to my fu- 
ture, I went to Cincinnati, where I spent three or four 
days, promenading the streets, and looking for a suita- 
ble location for trade. But not finding one in Market 
Street, where the chief business, such as I wished to en- 
gage in, was done, and being depressed in spirit, and 
longing for home again, I felt that an over-ruling Proy- 


THE LIFE OF DAVID SNOW. 79 


idence directed my steps eastward. The death of my 
brother, my failure to find a proper place for business, 
and a strong desire to see home once more, determined 
me not to settle in Cincinnati, but to come North, and 
secure, if possible, what I supposed might be a share 
of my mother’s property, accumulated before her second 
marriage; after which I thought I might return and 
settle in Indiana or Cincinnati. This was in the spring 
of 1824. © 

In company with a young friend who was coming 
North, I took passage on board a steamer bound for 
Wheeling, Va. Here, for convenience, I changed my 
specie for United-States bills, which were current every- 
where, tying them around my body for safe keeping. 

Having agreed with a teamster to take my trunk, I 
started on foot from Wheeling to Baltimore, travelling 
for some days in company with the team; sometimes 
falling behind and then going ahead, and stopping occa- 
sionally to visit the coal mines, which were to me a 
great curiosity. I left the team, the teamster agreeing 
to meet me at a given time in Baltimore, on Howard 
‘Street. The trunk contained twenty-five dollars in sil- 
ver. But very fortunately for the owner, it did not 
look as though it was worth, all told, five dollars, which 
fact saved my trunk, which I found all safe on my ar- 
rival in Baltimore. 

After I left the team I journeyed along leisurely, 
looking at all of the objects of interest by the way, as I 


80 FROM POVERTY TO PLENTY; OR, 


only cared to reach Baltimore in time to secure my 
trunk. 

After about two weeks of travel I arrived at Cum~ 
berland, at the foot of the Alleghany Mountains. My 
long and wearisome journey, through dust and mud, 
without a change of clothing, gave me a most unattrac- 
tive appearance. In this situation I did not go to a 
first-class, but to a second-class hotel. I applied for 
lodging, but was told by the landlord, after he had eyed 
me from head to foot, that they were full. I judged 
. that that was not the real cause, but rather my looks. 
Had the landlord known that under that rough, dirty 
exterior, was stowed away four hundred dollars, he 
might have found a place forme. I crossed the street to 
a first-class hotel, and was entertained without any ques- 
tions being asked. I retired early, and in the morning 
was surprised to find my shoes finely polished, a luxury 
they had never before known. 

After breakfast I went out to look about the city, 
and in my travels I came to the levee, where a number 
of flat-boats were loading with flour and other articles 
of produce, for Georgetown, D.C. Learning that they 
were hiring men for the trip, for about six dollars, Yan- 
kee-like the thought suggested itself to me that I might 
let myself and make six dollars, which was better than 
nothing, and at the same time not go far out of my way. 
I applied for a berth, but the captain, thinking me to 
be a green hand, declined to employ me, not knowing 


THE LIFE OF DAVID SNOW. 81 


that I was better acquainted with boats and river boat- 
ing than the captain and owner together. 

Turning away to go to my hotel, I heard the captain 
say to the owner that the boat leaked badly and he 
must have an extra hand asa bailer. The owner called, 
«« Stranger, come back!” I quickly obeyed, and was 
asked if I would ship as bailer. I responded in the af- 
firmative, for I was ready to.do anything that would save 
my funds and help me on my way to Baltimore. I en- 
gaged for six dollars for the trip. The captain inquired, 
‘‘How must.I pay you?” ‘*Money, of course,” 
I responded. ‘‘ No,” said the owner, ‘‘ you must take 
it out of the store; that is the way we usually pay our 
men.” 

Seeing that I was not likely to receive cash, and anx- 
ious to secure my board, and get homeward without 
travel on foot, I went to the store to see what I could 
find. I saw nothing that I could turn to good purpose 
except some Irish linen, which I thought would make 
good shirts; something which I should need on my ar- 
rival in Baltimore. So I took six dollars’ worth of 
linen, and rolled it up into as small a package as pos- 
sible, and having no other place for it, I put it into the 
top of my high-topped woollen hat. And having no 
other baggage, I went on board immediately, and re- 
ported myself for duty. As I commenced labor, my 
hat became inconveniently top-heavy, and would fre- 
quently fall off; but always, being the heaviest at the 
top, it would fall so as not to wet my Irish linen. 


82 FROM POVERTY TO PLENTY; OR, 


The crew consisted of captain, two oarsmen and bail- 
er. When all ready, the captain cast off from the pier, 
and the boat shot down with the current of the river 
with great rapidity. The captain, with a long oar, at 
the stern, was steering; the two men at the bow row- 
ing, and I in the centre bailing. It was about all I 
could do to keep her clear. After a while, becoming 
somewhat tired, I asked the captain to let one of the 
men give me a spell, and let me row. The captain 
asked, with some surprise, if I could row. This was a 
strange question to ask a young Cape Cod man. I re- 
plied that I could. The man at the bow was ordered 
to spell me, and taking my seat at the oar, I put in all 
my strength, to convince the captain that I was the equal 
of any of them. After a while I heard the captain say 
to the man who spelled me, ‘* That fellow knows how 
to row, don’t he?” ‘* Yes,” I replied, ‘ and I know 
how to steer, too, and would like to spell you.” The 
captain asked if I could steer, and, being informed that 
I could, he consented to spell me, taking the oar and I 
the helm. Having obtained command of the boat I 
kept it until we arrived near Georgetown, at about 
twelve o’clock at night. This was the first time in my 
life that in the space of twenty-four hours I shipped a 
bailer and came out captain. 

There were no conveniences for sleeping in the boat, 
so we hauled her up and built a fire, and sought to ob- 
tain rest in the following manner: We cut down 


THE LIFE OF DAVID SNOW. 83 


trees and arranged one log for our heads, another for 
our bodies, and another for our feet — our feet being to- 
ward the fire. I was comforted with the remark that 
that was the way the Indians made their beds, — rather 
uncomfortable, I thought, as the ground was wet, it 
having rained the fore part of the night. I could not 
sleep, but turned over, much as they turned meat in 
olden times when roasting it in a tin-kitchen. 

I left the boat the next morning, and, with my Irish 
linen in the top of my hat (for I held on to that, being 
nearly shirtless), I started on foot for Baltimore. -In 
consequence of sleeping out in the open air, and general 
exposure, I had an attack of the fever and ague. But 
notwithstanding my shakes, I stopped at a tavern and 
called for breakfast, which was readily furnished, con- 
‘sisting of ham and eggs, a favorite dish in the West, 
and one to which I did ample justice. 

The distance to Baltimore was about forty miles. I 
arrived there the next day, in good condition, and made 
for Howard Street, where I found my trunk with its 
contents all safe, greatly to my comfort. 

- I engaged board with an English family residing near 

the wharf, where lay the Boston packets, a sight of 
which made me feel that I was nearing home. My 
wardrobe greatly needing replenishing, I mustered cour- 
age and bought me some clothes, and in a few days 
came out with a new suit from top to toe. 

I spent about two weeks in Baltimore, seeing all the 


84 FROM POVERTY TO PLENTY; OR, 


sights of the town, and then engaged passage on board 
the brig ‘‘ Algerene,” for Boston. The fare, which I 
paid down, was ten dollars, including board. 

At the mouth of the Potomac we encountered a ter- 
rible gale. With both anchors down she drifted. It 
seemed that she must be dashed upon the shore; but the 
captain, as a last resort, cast out the kedge and hawser, 
and, though not possessing much power to hold, it was - 
just enough, with the aid of the other anchors, to keep 
her off the shore, and we were saved. With nothing 
farther of special interest on the voyage, we arrived at 
Hyannis in about a week, where the captain and crew 
belonged. Being only about twenty miles from my 
home in Orleans, the captain asked why I did not go 
home. I replied that I had paid my fare to Boston, 
and I was going through. I was determined to get my 
-money’s worth. 

It was a common practice in Hyannis, when a vessel 
became wind-bound, for the crew to get up a dance. 
They did so in this case; and, as the mate took a liking 
to me, I was invited to attend ; an invitation with which 
I was much pleased. The mate being interested in me, 
asked a young lady to accept my company for the night, 
a practice very common on the Cape at that time. She- 
replied that she would not care to accept the company 
of a wind-bound passenger ; a decision in which I heart- 
ily coincided, it being a mark not only of her good judg- 
ment, but of her prudenee. This ended my courtship 


THE LIFE OF DAVID SNOW. 85 


for the time, at least, at Hyannis; though, some years 
after, when settled in business on North Side, I passed 
through Hyannis and became more intimately acquaint- 
ed with the young lady, and more fully justified her 
prudence, and commended her good sense, in not keep- 
ing company with a wind-bound passenger with whom 
she had no acquaintance. 

Leaving Hyannis, in twenty-four hours we arrived 
safely in Boston, and after attending to some little mat- 
ters of business, I took passage on board a sloop bound 
to Orleans, and, in due time, arrived safely at home, 
aiter an absence of three years. 

My dear old mother met me with open arms and 
tearful eyes, saying, ‘‘Is this my boy, my only boy?” 
She had just received the painful intelligence of the 
death of her oldest son Godfrey, as before described. 

Thus ended my Western adventures. After an ab- 
sence of three years I had returned home with about the 
same amount of money I had when I left. This was a 
speculation not greatly to be coveted. 

In the language of Mrs. Frances K. @niler, I could 
say :— 

“T love that dear old home! My mother lived there 
Her first sweet married years, and last sad widowed ones. 
The sunlight there seems to me brighter far - 
Than wheresoever else. I know the forms 
Of every tree and cove, and hill and dell; 


Its waves’ majestic breaking on the shore I know; — 


It is my home.” 
8 


CHAPTER VII. 
DEFEAT AND VICTORY. 


“Let us, then, be up and doing, 
With a heart for any fate; 

Still achieving, still pursuing, 

Learn to labor and to wait.” 


— Longfellow. 
FTER remaining at home some three weeks and 

-™* visiting all my old comrades and acquaintances, 
I began to look about for something to do, a subject 
that always seemed as natural to me as my life. In fact, 
I took as naturally to business as a duck to water. My 
only plan for the future was a dim idea of returning, 
at no distant day, to Ohio. 

I had been educated a baker. It was the only busi- 
ness I understood; and though not exactly suited to 
my genius, I was ready to engage in it again at any 
favorable opening. 

Standing one day by the public highway, I heard the 
jingle of bells, —no unfamiliar sound to me,—an- 
nouncing to the neighborhood that the baker was ap- 


proaching. The cart soon arrived and I entered into 
86 


THE LIFE OF DAVID SNOW. 87 


conversation with the driver, whom I found to be the 
owner. I learned also that his name was Johnston, for- 
merly of New Bedford, and at that time engaged in 
cracker baking at West Barnstable. Being a man of 
fine figure, rather prepossessing, and withal well post- 
ed in the business, he impressed me very favorably ; so 
much so, that I-proposed to let myself to him, to work 
in his bake-house. He did not care to employ me, but 
intimated that he would prefer to have me for a partner. 
He spoke of the necessity of having some one interested 
in the business, who could take charge of the bake- 
house while the other was on the road. This all seemed 
quite plausible. He spoke of the value of the route, 
commanding all the Cape trade. The prospect for 
business seemed very hopeful. Without much delay 
we agreed upon terms of co-partnership, neither being 
very definite as to how much capital each should fur- 
nish. Before we parted we agreed to meet in a few 
days at Mr. Johnston’s bake-house and arrange some 
plan of operation. 

Believing all the baker-had said relative to the busi- 
ness, I, in a few days, hired the preacher’s horse (Rev. 
Mr. Johnson’s), and started on horse-back for West 
Barnstable. (Ministers and doctors were about all the 
men in those days in Orleans who kept horses.) On my 
arrival the next day, I found Mr. Johnston at his bake- 
house, according to agreement, patiently awaiting the 
arrival of his new partner. I soon found that my hopes 


88 FROM POVERTY TO PLENTY}; OR, 


were somewhat in advance of my judgment. “Mr. J. 
made many representations, all of which I afterwards 
found to be untrue. On the whole I did not like the 
look of things. We finally settled the conditions of 
co-partnership, and were to meet in Boston the week 
following, to purchase a stock of flour, to take an in- 
ventory of stock, and fix upon its value. This stock 
(not including a covered wagon, which he said was 
building for him in Cambridge, but which never came 
to light) was to be part of the capital. 

True to my promise, I was on hand at the time ap- 
pointed, but my new partner did not report for duty. I 
waited patiently for some time, and then went over to 
Cambridge to see the new wagon, but failed to find any 
such carriage in process of building. Things began to 
look a little suspicious, and I was half inclined to aban- 
don the whole matter. Just at this juncture I received 
a very plausible letter from my partner, giving as an 
excuse for not meeting me there, that business had pre- 
vented. An unexpected demand for pilot-bread from 
Chatham prevented his coming to Boston. He con- 
cluded, in view of such demand, that it would be for 
the interest of both that he should remain and attend to 
the demands for bread, at the same time requesting me 
to purchase some flour, as per memorandum, and come 
up in the Barnstable packet. 

Though I did not seem to understand the movement, 
and was fearful that something was out of joint, I final- 


THE LIFE OF DAVID SNOW. 89 


ly concluded to do so. It was not long before the fact 
was made to appear that want of money was the cause. 
He had no money, and his credit was low, both in Barn- 
stable and New Bedford, and this was the trick by 
which he sought to, and did, deceive me, and thus 
fleeced me of my little all. I invésted about two hun- 
dred and fifty dollars in stock, and in due time report- 
ed myself at the bake-house ready for business. Mr. 
J. seemed right glad to see his new partner, and well 
he might, for he was about bankrupt. He had in his 
employ one man and a boy, who, I found, did not take 
to me, as I worked myself and kept them at it. Before 
my coming they had it all their own way — work as 
they pleased; but now they were obliged to keep at 
it. This did not please them, so they left and went 
to New Bedford, leaving me nearly alone, as Johnston 
was out on his route most of the time. As they de- 
parted, some one asked them why they were leaving. 
They replied, that there had come a great snow-bank 
from off the Cape, and they could not stand it. It was 
not long before matters looked squally. Johnston left 
one day for Chatham with a load of crackers. About 
ten o’clock, a. M., he returned, saying that he had bro- 
ken his wagon, and that while it was being mended he 
had returned to see how they were getting along with 
the baking; when, as the fact soon came out, he had 
been arrested by the sheriff for debt, and had returned 
to get what money he had on hand, that with this and 


90 THE LIFE OF DAVID SNOW. 


the mortgaging of the horse and wagon, and the proceeds 
of his load of bread, he might stave off the matter for a 
time. Nothing was said to me about the matter, and, 
as Johnston was treasurer of the firm, for a time he suc- 
ceeded in concealing it. But it soon came out that he 
had courted one girl more than he could marry, and to 
compromise the matter had agreed to pay a certain sum 
of money in instalments, and the cause of his wagon 
getting out of repair was the falling due of one of these 
instalments, and the claim being pressed by the sheriff. 

Soon after, we dissolved partnership, and I employed 
Johnston on a salary of four dollars a week. This 
could hardly support a man and his wife. I boarded 
with him, occupying a small back room which was also 
used as a kitchen. My trunk, which had crossed the 
mountains safely with twenty-five dollars in silver in it, 
was my only deposit for what money I had left, amount- 
ing to about one hundred and twenty-five dollars; and, 
such was my confidence in New England honesty, that I 
did not even keep it locked, but left it standing in a clos- 
et inmy room. During my absence on my route, John- 
ston not having much to do, I locked up the bake-house 
and kept the key. But some of the neighbors, who had 
been informed that we had dissolved, notified me that 
he frequently visited the bake-house, taking there- 
from flour and crackers. I took an order for some ship- 
bread, and, on my return, went to my trunk to get 
some money to purchase some flour, and to my aston- 


THE LIFE OF DAVID SNOW. 91 


ishment, I found that some one had stolen it. I learn- 
ed that during my absence Johnston had been to New 
Bedford to pay another instalment due the disappointed 
woman. I made considerable stir about my loss, and 
he seemed to manifest a good deal of interest in 
the case, as the theft occurred in the room which was 
occupied by his family. Soon after, as it reflected on 
some of the family, Mr. Bussly, who owned the house, 
asked me if Johnston had any right in my absence to 
enter the bake-house and take flour and crackers for 
family use, saying that he had seen him do so repeat- 
édly. This aroused my suspicion, and I charged him 
with stealing from my bake-house, which he denied, but 
when informed that Mr. Bussly saw him, he owned up, 
confessed, and declared himself ready to pay whatever 
I demanded. This led me to suspect that he had taken 
the money, and so confident was I of it, that I charged 
him with the theft; but he denied it. I informed him 
that I should take counsel upon the subject. I left next 
day on my route, and on my return I found that John- 
ston had left town, and was never seen by me for more 
than twenty years. He had arranged for his family to 
meet him just out of town, near Sandwich, and that 
was the last of them. But I found myself in a sad pre- 
dicament. I was among strangers, moneyless and 
friendless, all through the dishonesty of Johnson, and 
my own reputation not very high. I had trusted a 
man-who seemed honest, and had been robbed of my 


92 FROM POVERTY TO PLENTY}; OR, 


all. I had been absent from New England about three 
years, much of the time carrying from three hundred 
and fifty to four hundred dollars in a belt around my 
body for safe keeping ; and now, at home, on old Cape 
Cod, where I was born and educated, and taught to be- 
lieve, and did believe, that everybody was strictly hon- 
est, — here I was robbed of nearly all I had. I had 
commenced business in July, with nearly four hundred 
dollars, and by the middle of August I had lost all, ex- 
cept an old horse, which I afterwards sold for twenty- 
five dollars ; a wagon for ten, about half-a-dozen bar- 
rels of flour, and a few bakers’ tools. We had baked 
nearly all the flour, and Johnston had appropriated the 
proceeds to his own use, besides taking what little 
money I. had saved from the hard earnings of some 
years. This was a hard look for a young man. 

To start so hopefully, and in six weeks to become so 
nearly bankrupt, was far worse, if possible, than my 
Indianapolis ‘‘linsey-woolsey” speculation. It did 
seem as if I was embayed among rocks and shallows, 
with no open sea before me. I confess I was in a di- 
lemma, and nothing but a cool head and a determined 
purpose could have extricated me ; and, but for a single 
tie that bound me, I should have left West Barnstable 
never to return, to seek my fortune in some other 
place ; if, in fact, there was any for me. 

I had been in Barnstable about one month when I 
became acquainted with a young lady; and, strange to 


THE LIFE OF DAVID SNOW. 93 


say, I had become very much attached to her, and had 
actually offered myself to her: This was not a little 
strange even to me, as I had been wandering around 
the world for some three or four years, had seen a 
great many young ladies, but never felt myself particu- 
larly drawn to any one. But I had not been in West 
Barnstable many weeks before I found one in whose 
company I was happy; and why, under all the circum- 
stances, she should have chosen me for a husband, 
among the many young men of the town, whose parents 
were well to do, —one like myself, a poor friendless 
stranger, —I could not comprehend. But so it was, on 
the principle that love goes where it is sent. 

Her parents were not wealthy, but were what were 
called in those times, fair livers. They resided on a 
farm belonging to the old Otis family of Revolutionary 
times. (A marble bust of one of this family — James 
Otis — now stands in the chapel at Mount Auburn.) 

I heard nothing more of Johnston until some twenty 
years after. When I had moved to, and was doing busi- 
ness in, Boston, he turned up at Gloucester. His fath- 
er had died and he succeeded him in business. 

After I had recovered from my surprise at Johnston’s 
conduct, and taken an inventory of what was left, con- 
sisting of six barrels of flour, one horse and wagon, and 
a few bakers’ tools, — worth to me, if I continued in the 
business, about one hundred dollars; if not, they could 
not have been sold for fifty dollars, —I seriousiy con- 


94 FROM POVERTY TO PLENTY; OR, 


sidered what was best todo. The only tie which bound 
me here and influenced me in my purpose to remain, 
was the young lady before named. A wonderful Proy- 
idence seemed to direct me, and the same principle 
which prompted me to come from New Orleans to Law- 
renceburg to save a friend who was my bondsman, in- 
fluenced me to remain here as I had promised. 

I was a comparative stranger in town. My connec- 
tion with Johnston had left a suspicion on my character, 
and whenever I mentioned my loss, a near neighbor, — 
a tavern keeper, whose only business was to supply the 
people with that liquid fire which is akin to hell, and 
thus robbing them of their money and what little char- 
acter they had, — would say, ‘‘ I don’t believe he has lost 
any money. I never saw a baker have as much money, 
and I do not believe it.” This was cold comfort for 
me. It only showed how much sympathy was mani- 
fested toward me. 

I knew of no one I could really call a friend, except 
in the family of which the young lady was a member. 
I was maligned and suspected. What could Ido? To 

‘do something I must. The tavern keeper owned the 
bake-house, and he was not friendly. Like myself, he 
had thought much of Johnston, but he had left clandes- 3 
tinely, owing him a small bill, as well as others. Thad 
but little money, but my affection for her, who in the 
following January became my wife, settled the matter, 
and I resolved to make an effort. I could but fail as I 


THE LIFE OF DAVID SNOW. 95 


had done before, but I was resolved to try, and try I 
did, but I confess it was against wind and tide. 

Obtaining the best help I could, which was very 
poor, I commenced. My crackers were only second 
quality, and I am satisfied that no one could sell such 
bread but he who made it. I had to compete with the 
bakers at Sandwich and Kingston, and nothing but en- 
ergy and skill as a salesman could work it off. But go 
it must, and go it did. 

Here I learned that few men understand really what 
there is in them, until they are put to the test. With 
me, it was life or death; and as Satan said to Job, — 
‘< All that a man hath will he give for his life.” Noth- 
ing daunted I pressed on, surmounting obstacles and 
overcoming difficulties which but few in my condition 
could have mastered. 

My plan of labor was, to spend ten days in making 
faggots in the woods, and cart them to the bake-house ; 
then ten days at baking, and then ten on my route. 

Often, to annoy me, the owner of the land on which 
I cut and bound my faggots, would, in my absence, cut 
the withes that bound them, and spread the faggots over 
the stumps to protect the young sprouts. 

One day, about two weeks after Johnston’s depart- 
ure, I was in the woods gathering faggots. After I 
had loaded my wagon, I went to bridle my horse, which 
had been browsing, and as I attempted to put the bri- 
dle on his head, he dodged. I looked to discover the 


96 FROM POVERTY TO PLENTY; OR, 


cause, and found a sore between his ears. Having 
some little knowledge of horses, I at once suspected 
that it was what is called pole evil, an incurable disease, 
and which would, in a short time, prove fatal. In our 
co-partnership I had allowed Johnston eighty dollars 
for the horse, and it was about all I had left. One may 
judge of the effect which this discovery must have had 
upon my nervous, sensitive nature. I felt that I must 
give up. I had already passed through enough to kill 
a common man, or drive him to desperation. 

The thought of losing my horse, about all that I had 
to depend upon in carrying on my baking business, was 
too much for me to endure. I sat down on a stump 
near by and wept like a child. I felt that all was gone, 
and I was a ruined man, and, but for a tie which had 
been strengthened by time, and which in honor and love 
held me, I should have fled from West Barnstable. 
But if I had so determined, I had little or nothing to 
go with, nowhere to go, no one to pity me, and noth- 
.ing that I could do. I had been a sailor, and tried my 
fortune on the sea; I had worked on a farm to little 
purpose; had worked as journeyman baker, and had 
set up and failed in business; I had tried my fortune 
im the far West, and at New Orleans; had crossed the 
Alleghany Mountains on foot to save money; had ship- - 
ped a bailer and come out captain ; — and here I was at 
last, in West Barnstable woods, almost penniless, and 
without a friend to pity or care forme. Take it all in 
all, it was the most painful hour of my life. 








ve 


1 SAT DOWN AND WEPT LIKE A CHILD. 


THE LIFE OF DAVID SNOW. 97 


But, like a calm philosopher, I looked up and said 
to myself, there is no other way but to stick to what 
little I have, horse or no horse, and to give all there 
is of me to business, even if I fail. Whatever the 
result might be, I should have the satisfaction of having 
done the best that it was possible for a mortal man to 
do, and nothing to condemn myself for in the future. 
On that stump my future was determined upon. I 
wish I could discover the location. I think I would 
build around it an iron fence, and cause to be placed 
upon it the motto, ‘‘ Never pEspair! Horr on— 
HOPE EVER! VICTORY WILL COME BY AND By!” 

As I raised myself from that stump, and wiped away 
my tears, I-seemed to feel that there was no such word 
as fail. In thinking of that hour, it has often reminded 
me of what Richelieu said to a young man. Handing 
him an important package, he said, ‘‘ Young man, be 
blithe: mark you, from the day you take this package, 
fortune smiles upon you.” ‘‘ But,” replied the boy, 
‘should I fail to deliver it?” ‘* Fail!” said Richelieu : 
‘¢in the bright lexicon of youth there is no such word 
as fail.” To a determined man, ordinary success, at 
least, is sure. In this spirit I resolved to go ahead. 
From that moment an inwaré assurance of success 
seemed to come upon me. I seemed to be a new man, 
and from that period in my life I took a ‘‘ new depart- 


”? 


ure.” I was without friends and without means, but 


-with an eye steadily fixed on the end, and a purpose © 
3 9 


98 FROM POVERTY TO PLENTY; OR, 


firm as the rock in mid-ocean, I said: ** J will sueceed 
in business!” My success, to be sure, came slowly, 
but it came. I never looked backward, but onward 
and upward. Step by step I mounted the thorny path- 
way of life, scarcely stopping to pluck a flower by the 
way. 

I used to bake four barrels of crackers per day, and 
when I was out, sell four barrels. I was told, for my 
comfort, that no baker could live in Barnstable ; but six 
months from the day I sat on that stump in Barnstable 
woods, I was married and had regained all I had lost 
by Johnston. My success greatly stimulated my cour- 
age, and I felt assured that if I was industrious and 
prudent I should reach the acme of my ambition. 


A MISGUIDED ACT. 


Previous to my marriage I mixed more or less 
with young people; and, while it did not cause me 
to slacken my zeal in business, it did furnish a little 
temporary enjeyment. I was frank, free, and honest 
with all. There was a family in the village by the 
name of Whitman. Mr. W. was the parish doctor, 
and was reputed wealthy; and, as is often the case, 
the sons were rather wild. Thinking that their father 
was rich, they did but little work on the farm, but spent 
much of their time at the old tavern, near my bake- 
house. While others frequented the tavern for grog, 


THE LIFE OF DAVID SNOW. 99 


as it was called, I never allowed myself to drink. But 
being fond of social life, I mixed considerably with 
them, and was always ready for a good time whenever 
the opportunity was furnished. 

In the month of September, one of the Whitman boys 
about my age, came to me and said, ‘‘ The Bodfishes 
have some fine melons, not far off; come, let us make + 
the melon patch a visit.” I readily entertained the 
proposition. We took two young ladies, daughters of 
Jabez Howland, the tavern keeper, and off we started, 
Whitman leading the way. In due time we reached . 
the melon patch. All was still —not a dog barking to 
give an alarm. We each took a melon, without con- 
sulting the owner, and came back to a Mr. Bursely’s, 
opposite the old tavern, and there, with some of the 
neighbors who dropped in, we feasted on stolen melons. 

When Mr. Howland found out what had been done, 
and that his daughters were in the company, he became 
greatly exasperated at me, though he said but little to 
my companion, Whitman, for the reason, no doubt, that 
he was one of his best customers for liquor, as were 
also the Bodfishes. Being influenced by interest, and 
not morality, there seemed no one to pounce upon but 
poor me. I was to be the scapegoat in the whole 
transaction. 

Our melon affair became quite public. Though we 
had a jolly time over it, the end was not so pleasant. 
Bodfish hearing of it, reported to Howland; and he, 


100 ._ FROM POVERTY TO PLENTY; OR, 


to clear his daughters, and not have his rum-selling in- 
terest affected by it, laid it all to the young baker, who 
had just commenced business in town. 

There was a meeting called of all the neighbors, and 
the melon question was thoroughly discussed. It was 
agreed that it was a terrible thing, and that the like had 
‘never been known before in the quiet village of Great 
Marshes. Each one volunteered his opinion, and it 
was finally agreed that we, to save a-law-suit, should 
pay one dollar each for the melons. And so young 
Whitman, who had been the: sole mover in the whole 
matter, came to me and said that he would write a re- 
ceipt for four dollars to cover the whole loss, and, as 
Bodfish could not read, I could go and pay them one 
dollar and they would sign the receipt for the whole. 
So I dressed myself up in my best clothes and called 
on the family, who were all gathered together, expect- 


ing 


g, and even waiting for my coming. I introduced 


myself as best I could, expressing my great sorrow at 
what I had done, and then offered them the receipt to 
sign, inclosing the one dollar. They took it into an- 
other room, examined the paper and returned it to me 
signed. I bid them good evening and left, feeling 
that I had got off cheap, though all the money came 
out of me. 

I was used by Whitman as a cat’s-paw to pull the 
chestnuts out of the fire. The result was, that when 
they discovered the deception, and that they had signed 


THE LIFE OF DAVID SNOW. : 101 


a receipt for four dollars and only received one, they 
became my life-long enemies, so much so that when my 
wife’s sister was married into the family, I was not in- 
vited to the wedding, and ever after, when I called on 
them, her husband would not come into the house. 

The melon affair, and my connection with Johnston, 
did not add greatly to my reputation in that town. I 
was watched and suspected by all. But the exercise 
of an indomitable will bore down all opposition ; and, 
thank God, in the end I triumphed. Surely I had a 
hard time of it. Iworked on, day and night, in no way 
sparing myself. This was the only secret of my suc- 
cess. 


CHAPTER VIII. 


A NEW DEPARTURE. 


‘‘The mind I sway by, and the heart I bear, 
Shall never sag by doubt, nor shake with fear.” 


— Shakspeare. 


** Like a mountain loan and bleak, ’ 
With its sky-encompass’d peak, 
i Thunder riven, 
Lifting its forehead bear, 
Through the cold and blighting air, 
Up to heaven, 
Is the soul that feels its woe, 


And is nerv’d to bear the blow.” 
— Mrs. Hale. 


N January, 1825, I was married, and at once com- 
menced house-keeping. Taking an inventory of my 
assets, I found that I was worth five hundred and fifty 
dollars, an increase of four hundred and fifty dollars in 
four months; and at the close of one year from the 
time Johnston left me, I was worth one thousand dol- 
lars. How I had earned it was astonishing to me— 
almost a miracle. But there was the evidence before 


me — figures would not lie. 


This, to me, remarkable success, settled all doubt in- 


102 


ad Ad 


THE LIFE OF DAVID SNOW. 103 


my mind as to the possibility of success. I hired a 
small place near my bake-house, for. twenty-five dollars 
a year. It included an old house, about six acres of 
land, a small orchard, a garden patch, and a cow pas- 
ture. I was now started in married life in good earn- 
est. My furniture was not elaborate nor expensive, — 
the whole amounting to not more than one hundred 
and twenty-five dollars; no carpet except now and 
then a rug made by my wife, and only one feather bed, 
which did not give us the opportunity of accommodat- 
ing many country cousins. I did not relax my energy 
nor allow my expenses to increase. I toiled night and 
day, resolved to conquer on this line. Living near the 
bake-house, my wife soon became very useful to me in 
my business. She was a helpmeet indeed. Nothing 
but poverty can teach one the necessity of economy, and 
even this fails at times. 

One little incident took place soon after we com- 
menced keeping house, which I regretted at the time. 
My mother came to visit us, and as we had but one 
feather bed, we allowed her to occupy-a straw bed. In 
the morning she said, ‘* David, have you but one feath- 
er bed?” I answered that I had not. The next 
time I saw her she gave me some money, saying, ‘‘ Buy 
a feather bed, so that the next time I visit you I may 
not have to sleep on straw.” This circumstance, un- 
pleasant as it was to me, enabled us to add another 
feather bed to our stock of furniture. 


104 FROM POVERTY TO PLENTY; OR, 


I laid in my winter’s provision for house-keeping, but 
on more serious reflection I concluded it would be 
cheaper to board. A Mrs. Crocker, near by, proposed 
to board us for three dollars per week. As I was to be 
absent much of the time, and my wife would be alone, 
and as I could not run the machine of house-keeping 
for three dollars a week, I concluded to suspend house- 
keeping and board. 

As my business and family began to increase, I felt 
that it was important that I should add to my income. 
I had no rich relatives to fall back upon in ease of acci- 
dent or sickness. It was work or die: so I worked day 
and night with a will. I was determined to lay up 
something against a rainy day, and believing then, as I 
do now, that industry and perseverance would surely 
win the coveted prize, whether it be wealth, political 
distinction, or literary fame, and that every man is capa- 
ble of excelling in some branch, I governed myself 
accordingly. My life thus far had not been spent on 
‘* flowery beds of ease,” but opposition and discourage- 
ment had met me on every side. My way was thorny, 
and it did seem that nobody cared for me, and I was 
tempted to care for no one, except my wife. If any 
one has ever received the cold shoulder, turn which 
way they would, such may know how to pity me. I 
was obliged to fight for every inch I gained in my up- 
ward progress. In about three years I had accumulat- 
ed about two thousand dollars over and above my ex- 
penses. 


THE LIFE OF DAVID SNOW. 105 


There were in West Barnstable about six or. eight 
men who were reported to be worth from four to six 
thousand dollars each. I often thought if I could own 
a homestead like the one I hired for twenty-five dollars 
per annum, and two thousand dollars, I should be en- 
tirely satisfied. I never aspired to be worth more than 
four thousand dollars. This sum was the height of my 
ambition, — not knowing that as one changes in life, and 
as his means increase, his mind changes also. Instead 
of being satisfied, when I had actually gained that sum, 
I was as ambitious as ever for more. 

During our residence in Great Marshes we were blest 
with our first born. My very great economy came near 
costing me my life. Just before my marriage, in Novem- 
ber, 1823, on one of my routes on the south side of the 
Cape, to save the wear of a part of my harness, I left the 
breeching at home, as it was not much needed on the 
Cape, and my horse was quite gentle. But while 
coming down a hill, as I came out of the wood, some half 
a mile from‘the main road, the wagon came against the 
hind legs of my horse, and he kicked up, striking me 
in the breast, and nearly stunning me. I felt that I 
was badly hurt, but had presence of mind enough to 
speak to my horse to stop, which he did, near the foot 
of the hill. I fell back into the wagon and became un- 
conscious, and then fell out in front of the wagon, and 
lay across the rut, which was a foot deep, and the ground 
frozen. ‘There I lay as dead. The first sensation I 


106 FROM POVERTY TO PLENTY; OR, 


+ 


felt was in the ends of my toes; and, before I could 
move, my first thoughts were of her whom I had en- 
gaged to marry, and then of my mother. Soon I could 
move my fingers, then my limbs and body.. My horse, 
providentially, never moved; if he had the loaded wag- 
on must have passed over and broken my legs, and I 
must have died that cold winter night, for the road was 
an unfrequented one, and no one could have known 
what had become of me, unless my horse had gone 
home. I had just strength enough, when I came to, to 
get into my wagon. I stopped at the first house on the 
way, a Mrs. Crocker’s. The doctor was sent for, two 
miles away, who came and bled me. I recovered slow- 
ly, being obliged to keep my bed for a long time. 

On my route I had many a dreary time. I remem- 
ber well when at South Dennis, on my way home, the — 
roads being sandy and dry, and not much demand for 
my crackers, feeling lonely and sick of the world, I 
said to myself, «* Well, if this is to be my life-work, the 
sooner I die the better.” I had little to encourage me, 
and saw little to live for. I have had such feelings 
since, but never as I felt at that time. 

The melon scrape was against me, and some of the 
neighbors thought, and said, that Mr. Fish’s daughter 
was running a great risk to marry me, when she had so 
many good offers from the young men of the town, and 
even Mr. Fish himself did not think his daughter's choice 
the most hopeful. But it was to be so, I presume, for we 


THE LIFE OF DAVID SNOW. 107 


were married, January 1, 1824, in about six months from 
the time I first saw her, and, like many others, we com- 
menced to do the best we could to make our mark in 
the world. 

Soon after our marriage, my wife’s sister was mar- 
ried to one of the Bodfishes, from whom I, with others, 
stole the melons, The old people were delighted with 
Clara’s prospects. She had married a rich farmer, and 
her fortune was secured. The eldest daughter, Rebec- 
ea, had married a son of Mr. Blish, quite a prominent 
man, whose wife was sister to Judge Shaw; but Betsy 
_ had married a poor baker boy, and not much was ex- 
pected from her choice, showing how little people can 
see into the future. Some years after this, when I had 
purchased a homestead about two miles from where I 
started in business, containing an old house, a barn 
and six acres of land, and had built me a bake-house, I 
had some farming to do, and occasionally employed my. 
wife’s father to help me. One day, as I was talking 
about the Bodfish family, he expressed the opinion that 
the Bodfishes (some four families who owned large 
tracts of land, and had all things common), laid up at 
least five hundred dollars a year. I replied, ‘‘ Well, 
what of that? I am earning that amount myself.” The 
old gentleman looked upon me with surprise, as much 
as to say, ‘* What a whapper!” Though I had many a 
pull-back I stuck to it, and would not down, but up. 

After I had moved to my new bake-house, I took.a 


108 FROM POVERTY TO PLENTY; OR, 


young man by the name of Rogers, from Orleans, as an 
apprentice; also my wife’s brother. I began to feel 
that I could take care of myself. My bake-house was 
connected with my dwelling-house, and, though my wife 
had two children, she was able to help me in getting in 
my batches. This was a very great assistance to me. 

Mr. Dexter, who was my near neighbor, did not believe 
that a baker could live in Barnstable, and often ex- 
pressed himself to that effect, which was cold comfort to 
me; still I knew better, and was demonstrating it daily. 

The Bodfish family were a hard working, industrious 
family, but had no education. My wife’s sister’s hus- 
band died soon after she was married, and some diffi- 
culty arising in the family, with regard to the division 
of the property, she was left with four young children, 
very poor, and has so remained. 

My business increased. My route now extended as 
far as Provincetown, and a terrible hard road it was in 
those days, before clay had been put upon the sand. 

Sometimes I crossed the Bay in a boat. Atone time ~ 
I had contracted to deliver some twenty barrels of pilot 
bread. The distance by land was fifty miles, —too far 
to drive, — so I hired a boat, and with my brother-in- 
law, started one day for the Cape, loaded very deep with 
bread. The wind was blowing fresh when we started. | 
As we neared Long Point, the tide was setting out 
and the wind blowing fresh, making a rough sea, so 
that at one time I felt that there was no chance for 


THE LIFE OF DAVID SNOW. 109 


me to escape a watery grave. Our boat was deeply 
loaded, with considerable stone bailast on board, and 
the sea frequently breaking over us. I trembled from 
head to foot, expecting every moment that our boat 
would swamp. But through a kind Providence we just- 
escaped, and made a safe landing. 

An event took place soon after we had moved into 
our new house, which, religiously, changed my whole 
life. I was educated a Presbyterian, of the straitest 
sect. My mother led me, when a child, to that church. 
I was in Truro, not far from Truro Light-House, on the 
north side, stopping for the night with a family by the 
name of Atkins, a distant relative of my mother’s. A 
camp-meeting had just been held there by the Boston 
Methodists, Father Taylor being one of the prominent 
leaders. A wonderful baptism of power had fallen 
upon the people. A woman, by the name of Smith, 
had entered into the fulness of God’s salvation, and, 
with other neighbors, had come in for a social religious 
gathering. Religion, of course, was the theme of con- 
versation, which was very strange to me. I was the 
only unconverted person in the room, and, as every one 
feels the need of some excuse for their course, I took 
sides against the Methodists, and thought I had the 
best end of the argument. It was suggested that they 
close with prayer; and asked me if I ever prayed. I 
replied that I did not. They asked me if I did not feel 


that I ought to pray. I said, ‘* Yes, and hope to com- 
10 , 


» 110 FROM POVERTY TO PLENTY; OR, 


mence pretty soon.” They all knelt in a cirele, inclos- 
ing me in the centre. I stood up, holding on to a chair, 
as I had been taught to do. First one and then another 
prayed. I was not moved at all by their prayers, until 
Mrs. Smith commenced, she being the last of the circle. 
Her prayer was for me. I had never heard such pray- 
ing before. I trembled all over; my knees became so 
‘ yery weak that I could stand up no longer. So down 
I got and began to ery for mercy. The only prayer I 
did or could offer, was, ‘** God be merciful to me, a 
sinner!” God heard my prayer and a wonderful change 
came over me. My darkness was turned to light. 
There was no sleep for me that night. I was praising 
God with my whole heart. On the following morning 
how beautiful everything looked. All nature seemed 
to wear a smiling face, and on my way homeward the 
very foliage on the trees, and the singing of birds, was 
delightful. I was in a new world; at least, it never 
seemed so to me before. The change was all internal, 
and this made everything so beautiful without to me. 
I was very happy, and sang for joy on my homeward 
way. 

On my arrival home it was soon noised about that 
Snow had been converted, and, as a matter of course, 
as I had been an’irreligious person, it produced no lit- 


tle stir fora time. They concluded that if such a hard 


case as I had been could be converted, there was hope 
for them, and so I thought. I now began to feel that 


THE LIFE OF DAVID SNOW. 111 


an over-ruling Providence had been around me for good, 
and through mercy he had had me in his keeping. 

I had paid for my little farm, and from it raised my 
vegetables, and I kept a cow which supplied me with 
butter and milk. I had also a good orchard. Still I 
worked hard, as did my wife. With a family, consisting 
of myself, two men, and two children, she did her own 
work and helped me in the bake-house. Who could 
not succeed with such a wife! In addition to my crack- 
er baking I contracted with a company in Falmouth, 
- who fitted out whalemen, to bake forthem. We baked 
flour into -hard-bread for one dollar and twenty-five 
cents per barrel. This nearly cost me my life. I 
boarded near by and slept in an attic. It was oppres- 
sively hot when I retired, and at midnight the fog 
would come off the sound and change the temperature 
from 80 deg. to 40 deg. I took a violent cold which 
settled on my lungs, rendering it necessary for me to 
give up work and go home. My brother-in-law took 
my place. He had formerly worked with me, but 
took a notion to go to sea. He went to Boston, 
shipped on board a brig and was put to work tarring 
down the rigging. Being a very neat, particular young 
man, the tar bucket did not accord with his ideas of 
sea life, so he concluded to come home, cured of sea 
life, just in time to take my place. For three months 
my cough continued, and many said ‘* Snow is gone for 
it;” but my time was not yet. My health gradually 


112 FROM POVERTY TO PLENTY; OR, 


improved until I was able to attend to my business. 
But in the month of August, on my way to Chatham 
with a load of bread, I got heated, and it was with very 
great difficulty that I was able to reach my home. 

I was confined to my bed for several weeks, being 
treated allopathically, — homeopathy not being known 
at that time, — and took calomel enough to kill any man 
whose time had come to die. But mine had not come. 
I recovered gradually, but was never completely cured. 
For many years I have been a sufferer from that miser- 
able treatment, 

To show how I had to work, rain or shine; in Sep- 
tember I went to a Falmouth muster, twenty miles 
away. It rained steadily all day. The company of 
visitors, consequently, was not large, and the demand 
not sufficient to use up what cake I had brought, and I 
was obliged to go about and peddle it out as best I 
could; and with all my effort I had to bring back, at 
night, about half my stock. But to cap the climax, 
my brother-in-law, who came home with me, to save 
his cartridge-box from getting wet, put it in the 
top of my chest of ginger-bread, and the dampness of 
the weather, with the motion of the wagon, kept his 
cartridge-box in perpetual motion, until our arrival at 
home. Judge of the condition of my ginger-bread. 
In the morning as I took it out, the edges were all 
chopped off, and the dampness of the weather made it 
look as if it had the small-pox. , 


* 


THE LIFE OF DAVID sNOW. 113 


This was one of my misfortunes. But, never under- 
taking anything and giving it up, I brushed it up as 
well as I could, replenished my cart with some which 
was in good order, and was prepared to attend another 
muster to be held at South Yarmouth the following day. 
But in the morning, to my surprise, a two-horse team 
from Kingston, loaded with a fine assortment of cake 
of all kinds, drove up and stopped opposite my bake- ° 
house, and inquired the way to the muster field. Here 
was a demand for all my tact. I chatted with him for 
a while, and then said to him, if he would wait a little I 
would hitch up and go along with him, which he readi- 
ly consented to do. The thought suggested itself to 
me that it would never do to let that fellow get on the 
ground in advance of me. I hitched up and off we 
started. Just about dark we came to a little tavern, a 
mile from the ground. I turned out and said to my 
Kingston friend that this was the only tavern at which 
we could get accommodations, unless we went a mile 
beyond. He was soon unhitched, while I stood and 
looked on, thinking how I could out-general the fellow, 
for I knew that my cake would stand no chance beside 
his. He saw me looking on, and said, ‘* Come, un- 
hitch.” I replied very coolly that I had a little busi- 
ness beyond the muster ground, and I thought I would 
go on and attend to it and meet him on the ground in 
the morning. I did not tell him that my business was 
to see the tént men that night, and engage them all the 


* 


114 FROM POVERTY TO PLENTY; OR, 


cake and crackers they might sell the next day. So 
after I saw him put up his team I started off, a move- 
ment which he did not seem to like very much. I suc- 
ceeded in engaging to supply all the tents, and actually 
delivered as much as they thought they could sell, and 
in the morning I backed up my wagon along side of the 
Kingston team, and made the best show of cake I could 
with my imperfect stock. I had the adyantage in the 
sale, though his stock was in every respect superior to 
mine. ° 

A little incident occurred which not a little amused . 
the people. A neighbor of mine came along eating a 
piece of my cake, and said, ‘‘ Snow, you have got the 
worst looking cake I ever saw, but what is singular, 
everybody is eating it.” «* Well,” I said, «that is just 
what I am pleased with.” At night I had nearly sold 
out, and my Kingston friend had sold very little. I 
said to him, ‘* There is another muster at Eastham, are 
you not going?” <«No,” he replied: ‘Snow, I will 
follow you no longer.” This was a common remark 
among bakers for being out-generaled. So I had the 
other muster all to myself. On my way I stopped at a 
grocer’s and took an assortment of liquors, which were 
not then, as now, contraband. I succeeded in selling 
all my cake, and the soldiers washed it down with New 
England rum and molasses. It is not so now. 

The first year on my place I saved a large quantity 
of apples. I engaged the same boat as” before, and 











































































































































































PEDDLING CAKES. 





THE LIFE OF DAVID SNOW. 115 


took twenty barrels to Wellfleet, and sold them for one 
dollar per barrel. I left the same night for Orleans, 
some ten miles, with a head wind. Here I stopped all 
night with my mother, to save the expense of lodging 
at Wellfleet. The next morning, there being a head 
wind, I started for Barnstable, which I reached at night, 
having been absent two days. I brought back twenty 
dollars, which, to me, was clear gain. This shows how 
I managed and struggled to earn a dollar. This I did 
in all my business. 

I was prospering quite smartly. I owned a good 
place, all paid for. When at the foot of the hill, I 
found it hard work to ascend, but after I got up a little 
I found myself master of the situation, and with any 
amount of pluck I was determined to succeed if it was 
possible, which I fully believed. It was not, after all, 
plain sailing. I was frequently very greatly tried. I 
‘ had a competitor at Sandwich, who was not unfrequent- 
ly in my way. 

In the month of December, just at night, cold and 
freezing, this man passed my place with a load of crack- 
ers. I seemed to feel that he was going the same route 
I had projected for myself the following day. How to 
get ahead of him was the question. I concluded he 
would go on about four miles and put up for the night. 
I resolved to start early in the morning, and pass him, 
if possible. I retired early; but, with my mind on 
him, sleep refused to come. I rolled upon my bed 


116 FROM POVERTY TO PLENTY}; OR, 


until about twelve o’clock at night, and then got up and 
harnessed my horse, and off I started. I watched every 
turn-out until at last I found he had stopped near the 
place I had anticipated. I went to the stable, and sure 
enough, there he was. Then I laid my plans and had 
the route in my hands. I drove about eight miles and 
stopped; put up my horse, and made a bed on the hay- 
mow, and slept a little. I was up with the sun, took 
my breakfast, and was off, not less than eight miles in 
advance of my competitor. I learned afterwards that 
he followed me until he found that I was ahead, and then 
turned off on to the route I had passed over some little 
time before. | 

At another time, when I was on the Chatham route, 
near the junction of the Orleans road, where it connects 
with the Chatham road, supposing I had command of 
the road, who should come out of what was called the 
middle road, through Harwich, just ahead of me, but 
this same man. I got sight of him, but he did not see 
me. Chatham was divided into what was ¢alled, Old 
Harbor, and The Light, being about two miles apart. 
To reach the stores in Old Harbor, we were obliged to 
turn off north-westerly. I was anxious to reach the 
stores first, but saw no way to do it with my team, so 
. I drove on and got as near to him as I could, then 
stopped my horse in a bend in the road and ran across 
the field, reaching the stores in time to engage all the 
crackers they wanted, saying that I would deliver them 


THE LIFE OF DAVID SNOW. 117 


' soon. Then I hastened back to my wagon, and on to 
the stores at The Light, and then back the shore road 
to Old Harbor; and meeting my competitor about half 
way between the stores, he said, ‘‘ It is not fair to run 
across lots.” I replied, «‘ Any way to sell my bread.” 
As they used to say, I out-generaled him. My object 
was to win, without much reference to the interests of 
others. We were looking out for number one — going 
in for the main chance. 

Wellfleet was my best route on the Cape, as I always 
got cash down for my bread. In 1827 there was held 
a camp-meeting on what was called Brown’s-Brook Isl- © 
and, the first ever held in the place. I was on hand 
with a load of cake, and did a smart business. I en- 
joyed the meeting very much, and sold out my entire 
stock, having been absent from home about a week. My. 
religious experience did not advance very much. I had 
an idea from what I had seen and heard about Chris- 
tianity, that when a person got religion, it made him 
not only happy, but really honest and trustworthy. I 
knew but little of the weaknesses of human nature. I 
was happy, and a streak of honesty run all through me, 
and I expected it in those who professed to be religious. 
But my mistake was in looking to man; I should have 
looked to God. At times, while in and out of meeting, 
I had such evidences of the Divine presence as caused 
me to tremble in every part. I was naturally timid, but 
when these visits of power came on me, the fear of man 


118 FROM POVERTY TO PLENTY; OR, 


was overcome ina moment. One day, while in a field 


near my stable, thinking of what had taken place in me, 


the wonderful change, the excitement among my neigh- 
bors, how much talk it occasioned, and how remarkably 
happy I felt, —all at once such light and power came 
upon me and through me, that I was almost lost in a 
flood of glory. It seemed for a time that I was in 
heaven. Such peace I had never known before. . It 
was to me the baptism of the Holy Ghost. But having 
no one in those days to instruct me, I did not retain this 


blessed enjoyment. In those days I heard nothing of — 


the higher life, or Christian holiness. I said nothing 
about this at the time. At the prayer meeting I would 
often sit and tremble like an aspen-leaf, under the pow- 
er of God, before I could give utterance to the pent up 
feelings of my soul. There was always a charm to me 
in prayer. Frequently as I passed a house and heard 
the voice of prayer, I would stop and listen until its 
close. I was never very much attracted by forms and 
ceremonies in religious worship, and my knowledge of 
religious duties was very imperfect. God seemed to 
lead me by his Spirit. 

Some Baptist brethren would come to see me and 
talk over their peculiar views about immersion; but I 
did not take much interest in those matters. I felt that 
God was Love, and that he loved me, and I loved him, 
and with that I was satisfied. It seemed as though I 
was born a Methodist. They always seemed nearer to 


THE LIFE OF: DAVID SNOW. 119 


me than any other people. God had answered their 
“prayers for my salvation. I had heard a great deal of 
praying before, and have since, and it seems to me that 
these people are taught by the Spirit to believe when - 
they ask, to a degree not common among others ; and I 
took to them as naturally as a duck takes to water. 

We built a small Methodist church near my bake- 
house, and I was chorister. The reader may judge of 
the character of the music. I had a good deal of trial 
in that department, and was criticised not a little. One 
said I sang through my nose, and ‘consequently gave 
them nasal music. Another said I had no ear for 
music; and others offered other objections. But not- 
withstanding all this, sing I would, and sing I did, 
though I confess I had no natural talent for music. 

I did not slacken my zeal in business. I was ‘ dili- 
gent in business, fervent in spirit, serving the Lord ;” 

-and by close attention to, and increased activity in, 
business, I began to feel that I was taxing my physical 
energies beyond their powers of endurance, and that if 
I expected to live long I must change my business. 


CHAPTER IX. 


A CHANGE IN BUSINESS. 


“Live for something; be not idle; 
Look about thee for employ ; 
Sit not down to useless dreaming; 
Labor is the sweetest joy. 


““*Folded hands are ever weary, _ 
Selfish hearts are never gay; 
Life for thee hath many duties; 
Active be, then, while you may.” 


HAD now been in the baking business at West 
Barnstable four years, and two years in my new 
place. I was naturally a trader, —it was born in me, 
and only needed to be developed by education. This, 
so far, I had failed to secure, but was not without hope 
that I should yet find my proper sphere ; 
My health failing me, I selected Wellfleet as the most 
promising place for trade, as the people followed the 
fishing business, and fish always brought cash, and con- 
sequently there was no barter. I was better posted 
than any other person on the Cape as to this fact, as 


my route extended from Falmouth to Provincetown. 
120 


THE LIFE OF DAVID SNOW. 121 


At this time I was worth about two thousand four 
hundred dollars: one thousand eight hundred dollars 
in‘cash, and six hundred dollars in real estate. I leased 
my bake-house to my brother-in-law, who continued 
the baking business, and I formed a co-partnership with 
one John Harding, who owned a place near the head 
‘of Duck Creek. I always had a good judgment of the 
best place for trade, as this selection proved. 

Harding built me a store, such as I wanted, for which 
I paid twenty-five dollars a year rent, he having one 
quarter interest. Our capital was two thousand four 
hundred dollars. I was captain, and was allowed twen- 
ty-five dollars a month and my board; and when I was 
absent Mr. Harding took my place and was allowed the 
same per month; and the net profits were to be divided 
as follows: one-fourth to Harding, and three-fourths 
to myself. 

Mr. Harding was‘ a_ jack-at-all-trades, — carpenter, 
mason, ship-builder, etc., but was never intended for a 
merchant; and, as I soon learned, his-only object in 
taking hold with me was to learn the business, and, by 
and by, as he was getting old, set up for himself. He 
placed the utmost confidence in me, though an entire 
stranger ; and I am thankful that I never betrayed it. 

Having sold out all my assets in the baking business, 
such as horse, wagon, etc., I made my arrangements 
with Harding. I felt as though I had reached the acme 


of my ambition, as my aim, from a boy, had been to be 
: 11 


122 FROM POVERTY TO PLENTY; OR, 


a merchant. It seemed an inborn desire. I had de- 
rived it from my mother. She was naturally a trader. 
But I had never seemed to reach that goal until now. 
But in 1828, by dint of industry and economy, I had 
set up for myself. Of course I had much to learn. 
Such was my economy that I had not a suitable suit of 
clothes to wear to Boston to purchase my stock of 
goods. I engaged Mr. Crocker, a trader in Yarmouth, 
to assist me; and borrowing a suit of clothes of my . 
brother-in-law, I started for Boston. Among the ar- 
ticles of merchandise which I took along with me was a 
barrel of cheese, made by my wife, which shows that 
she not only did her own work, helped me in the bake- 
house, and took care of two children, but made butter 
and cheese enough for family use, and two hundred 
pounds for the market, which I took to Wellfleet as a 
part of my stock in trade. With the eighteen hundred 
dollars in cash, and six hundred dollars sent me by 
Harding, as per agreement, I purchased an assortment 
of goods, adapting them as best I could to a country 
store. I had a little of all sorts, —dry-goods, crock- 
ery, groceries, and the like. And as I was anxious to 
save all I could, I chartered a sloop running between 
Boston and Orleans to take all my goods to Wellfleet 
for twenty-five dollars. By this arrangement I might 
have saved ten dollars; but on account of it I became 
quite unpopular with the packet masters of the place, 
which was not a little to my disadvantage. The sloop 


THE LIFE OF DAVID SNOW. ia 


was somewhat in years and deeply loaded. When 
about half way across Barnstable Bay, we encountered 
‘what was called an old-fashioned south-wester, and 
came very near being carried outside the Cape. She 
would not make a course within four points of where 
she headed. I had no insurance on my goods, and for 
a time it seemed that we should be lost. All I had in 
this world, except the old bake-house, was on board 
the old sloop, and I thought if she swamped I might 
as well go with her, for in that cargo was the fruit of 
four years of the hardest toil of my life, and I felt as 
though I could not go over that ground again. For 
four mortal hours I was in the greatest suspense as to 
how it would turn. But as a merciful Providence 
would have it, we just escaped a watery grave. What 
added to my despondency, I had others dependent upon 
me for support —a wife and two little ones. I could 
never tell the distress of mind I was in during those 
hours of storm. But, thanks to a kind Providence, a 
strong flood-tide setting into Barnstable Bay, and the 
wind dying away, we were carried safely around Billin- 
gate Point up the Bay to Duck Creek, at which place 
we cast anchor all safe. Our cares and anxieties were 
over as we once more trod the soil, or sand, of old 
Cape Cod. 

My partner, Mr. Harding, was on hand with boats 
to take our goods to the shore. The way we got our 
stock of molasses on shore, there being no wharf, was 


124 FROM POVERTY TO PLENTY; OR, 


to hoist it into a large flat-boat, and at low tide turn 
the boat on its side and let it roll out, and then roll it 
into the store. 

The opening of our new store made a busy time for 
us, as a new broom always sweeps clean. Before our 
goods were in position, or we were ready, we were 
over-run with customers. We commenced business 
under very auspicious circumstances. I took the lead 
of all the traders in the place, and as Wellfleet was a 
cash market, and no barter, I found that I had located 
in the best place. I sold my goods cheap for cash, and 
soon became popular; so much so that my store was 
called the cheap store. I always observed that if you 
treat a man well and sell him goods low, he will always 
come again and bring others with him. A man never 
gets rich on one trade or one thing. A trader must 
make his customers feel that he is doing as well or 
better by them than can be done elsewhere, and if he 
does they will always give him their patronage. 

In the fall of 1828, after I had become settled in my 
business, and everything began to look as though I 
should succeed, I moved my little family from Barn- 
stable, consisting of my wife and three children, Sarah, 
Elizabeth, and David, the latter an infant of six months. 
During their stay in Barnstable I used to walk home 
once a month, a distance of thirty miles, which I trav- 
elled in one day, and if business called, I could return 
by the Boston stage. During my first month in trade I 


THE LIFE OF DAVID SNOW. 125 


took in cash one thousand dollars, which was regarded 
as a big thing. While at Wellfleet death entered our 
home, and Elizabeth, our second daughter, was removed 
from us. She was buried there. 

We did not live in great style, though I was worth 
at that time two thousand four hundred dollars. I 
hired a place not far from my store with two rooms, — 
rather close quarters for a family of five. My wife was 
an utter stranger to all in the place; but we soon found 
friends, as two-thirds of the people were Methodists ; 
and being of that order and attending that meeting, I 
not only secured their friendship but their trade. In 
those days the Methodists were proverbially social. 
There was no caste, no rich, no poor, but all who were 
respectable associated together. Here we had all our 
children baptized by Brother Steele, the preacher in 
charge. My wife not liking our house, Mr. Harding 
leased us one-half of his double house adjoining the 
store. IJlere we had one large and one small room and 
a right in the attic. With this my wife was entirely 
content. We used our front room for a kitchen and a 
spare room to sleep in when we had company, which 
was very seldom. My wife experienced religion in 
1829, and attended the first camp-meeting at Eastham. 

After a time, my business being prosperous, I deter- 
mined to make Wellfleet my abiding place and settle 
down for good. I purchased a lot on the hillside, near 
my store, and commenced removing the earth to fill up 


126 FROM POVERTY TO PLENTY; OR, 


in front; the tide, at high water, washing the base of 
the hill. It was my plan, also, to build a wharf in front 
and fill up as I had leisure, and with this in view I pur- 
chased a wheelbarrow and went at it in right good earn- 
est. But M. S. Higgins, a trader in the place, was a 
‘committee on roads, and not being kindly disposed 
towards me, as I had taken away much of his trade, came 
and forbade me filling up the road, which was a benefit 
rather than an injury. But the animus of the man was 
very apparent. The man who sold me the lot ex- 
changed it for one adjoining Higgins’s, and on it I built 
me a dwelling-house, proposing at some future time to 
build a store opposite the house. I contracted with a 
carpenter to build me a one-story double house for six 
hundred and fifty dollars, and I dug the cellar for one 
dollar and fifty cents. When finished, we moved into 
it, letting one-half to Mr. Curtis, husband of my wife’s 
sister. I must say we never felt so happy before nor 
since. After that, when we had company we had room 
to accommodate them, independent of our kitchen. 
Coal was unknown in those days in Wellfleet, — our 
only fuel was wood. Of this I used about three cords 
annually, sawing and splitting it myself. While doing 
this I would watch the store, and when a customer came 
I would drop my saw or axe and run to wait on him. 
In fact, there were no lazy bones in me. 
My profits at this time were about six hundred dollars 
a year above the amount it cost me to live. One 


THE LIFE OF DAVID SNOW. Ee 


fact is interesting to me to relate. I never fell in debt 
a single year of my life—always coming out a little 
ahead. I practised the strictest economy, even when I 
was doing well.. I never allowed myself to be carried 
away with prosperity, as I did not know what a day 
might bring forth. With many, if they make a little 
money they fancy it is to continue, but it was not so 
with me. If I did well I was always more saving. 

During my four years’ residence in Wellfleet, various 
incidents occurred of more or less interest to me and 
others. I engaged in several speculations, but scarcely 
ever lost by them. At one time, after a violent gale, 
in the winter, a vessel was discovered in the shoals, 
aground and dismasted. I was part owner of a fishing- 
vessel lying in Duck Creek. I mustered a crew and 
proceeded to her relief. There was a prevailing senti- 
ment on the Cape (not very much to the credit of the 
people) that a wrecked vessel was common property. 
We found this vessel in a helpless condition, and glad 
to accept our aid. She was owned in Newburyport, 
and was from one of the West India Islands, loaded 
with salt. We took her in tow and brought her up to 
the wharf, made her fast, and claimed salvage of one- 
half. As I acted a prominent part in the matter, being 
‘<< chief cook,” I received, in the end, one-half share of 
the salvage. 

At another time, a vessel loaded with fruit, from 
Malaga, was wrecked on the back side of the Cape, 


128 FROM POVERTY TO PLENTY; OR, 


about four miles from my store. Her eatgo was to be 
sold at auction. We made up a company and bid off — 
the whole cargo of oranges and lemons. We earted 
them about two miles over the beach, and stored them 
in Deacon Arey’s barn. But, to our injury somewhat, 
there came on a very cold night and they all froze, and 
_ remained so until spring opened. During the winter 
we used to draw them on sleds by hand to my store, 
and retail them to the neighbors about town. We then 
chartered two fishing-vessels and took them to Boston, 
Plymouth, and some other places, and should have done 
first-rate, but -warm weather coming on, they thawed, 
and in a brief time became worthless. As it was, we 
made a good thing out of them. 

The people of Wellfleet became my warmest and best 
friends. I became very much attached to them, and 
well I might: they were mostly Methodists, and traded 
with me, even after I had moved to Boston. 

Mr. Harding not proving to be of any advantage to 
me, and having arrived at a position, financially, to 
carry on business myself, I seriously thought of build- 
ing me a store and dissolving partnership, and carrying 
on business alone. Then, thinking if I did it would 
utterly destroy his prospects of being a merchant, and 
and as he had put a good deal of confidence in me, and 
had trusted me when a stranger, self-interest had to 
yield to a sense of obligation. We were pleasantly 
situated, had command of the trade, my family had 


THE LIFE OF DAVID SNOW. 129 


formed many pleasant acquaintances, and it did seem as 
if we should live and die in Wellfleet. But it seems I 
had not found my place. 

About this time I ascertained that there was a farm 
for sale in Barnstable, and the idea suggested itself to 
my wind that it would be a good place for me and my 
family. Mr. Higgins, a trader near by, learning that I 
thought of leaving the place, offered me a good price 
for my homestead ; and I sold out my stock in tradé to 
Mr. Harding (a sorry day for him). He paid me what 
money he had; and to make all safe, as I was fearful 
he would not succeed, I took a mortgage on his place 
for the balance. His wife pressed him into trade, think- 
ing it would be so very convenient to go to the store 
and, without pay, get whatever she might need. 

Having settled on my plans, I purchased the Bursely 
farm for eighteen hundred dollars. I sold my house 
for nine hundred, and collected in all my old debts, 
leaving a balance unpaid of only seventy-five dollars, 
after trading in Wellfleet for four years: a thing never 
done before nor since. This shows that I was a good 
judge of whom to trust. An old friend of mine, by 

the name of Holbrook, on learning that I was about to 
remove from Wellfleet.to Barnstable, expressed his re- 
gret by saying that he would rather lose one of his best 
cows than have me leave. I think there was a very 
general expression of regret at my leaving the place ; 
but when I decided to do anything I never looked 


130 FROM POVERTY TO PLENTY; OR, 


back. I hired the same vessel to take me back which 
brought me to Wellfleet four years before. While our 
two youngest children came with their mother by land, 
in her brother’s bake-cart, I came with Sarah, the eldest, 
in the packet. We landed at Barnstable, in the night, 
during a violent rain-storm. We landed our goods, 
and in the morning carted them up to the house I had 
bought. There was no one there to receive us, my wife 
not having arrived. The next day we put things in 
order as best we could, and commenced housekeeping, 
living on cold food for a day or two. My brother-in- 
law, who thought I had done so well in Wellfleet, 
vacated the baking business to me and commenced trad- 
ing in the town of Truro. I soon got into the trade, 
and with the aid of my wife and her brother, we made 
good his place, and soon regained my old trade on the 
Cape. 

Mr. Harding, my old partner, as I anticipated, — 
though he had all my trade, and I introduced him in 
Boston, so that he was in good credit, and commenced 
with a good prospect of success, — made a failure. He 
unfortunately employed a young man in the store who 
was not honest; and having himself been a hard-work-. 
ing man, and strictly honest, as he gave up work he 
took to drinking a little too much. He had also a son 
who turned out badly. These things worked against 
him, and, to cap the climax, he unfortunately got into 
a lawsuit with a Congregationalist clergyman by the 





THE LIFE OF DAVID SNOW. 131 


‘name of Bailey. Mr. Bailey had been a Methodist 
preacher and had married into the Whitman family, of 
Barnstable. His wife was a sister of the young man 
who got me into the melon scrape. One of the condi- 
tions of marriage was that he become a Congregational- 
ist. It was evident that money had much to do with 
this marriage. 

Mr. Bailey, very unjustly, made some scandalous re- 
marks; and, among others, that I made my bread and 
crackers in the same place where I cleaned eels. This 
was malicious, and done to injure my business. Not 
long after this I met him on the road as I was returning 
from Eastham camp-meeting. I stopped my horse and 
told him I would like to speak with him. Well under- 
standing what I was about to say, instead of stopping, 
he put on the whip and was soon out of sight. This 
only added insult to injury, provoking me to write a 
notice and post it up in several places in Wellfleet, 
stating that whereas Stephen G. Bailey had circulated 
certain false reports respecting my business and declined 
to make any explanation to me, I hereby pronounced 
the report false, and challenged him to prove if. Mr. 
Harding, taking my side in the controversy, reported 
verbaily to several of Mr. Bailey’s congregation what 
I had written, and they insisted that he should clear 
it up; consequently Bailey sued Harding. ‘This, of 
course, created great excitement in the town. Mr. 
Harding being a leading member in the Methodist 


132 FROM POVERTY TO PLENTY; OR, 


church, the two societies took sides for and against 


Harding. Most people drank in those times, and Mr. — 


Harding being more or less addicted to drink, it is 
not strange that he should have said some unwise things 
at such times. 

My mother belonged to the same denomination with 
Mr. Bailey, and he used frequently to stop at her house 
in Orleans, and occasionally exchange pulpits with her 


minister. As a knowledge of this lawsuit became — 


wide-spread, my mother heard of it, and broached the 
matter one day when Bailey was stopping at her house. 
She expressed her regret that a minister of her faith 
should go to law on so smalla matter. He replied that 
when he had got through with Harding and had made 
him smart for what he had done, he had made up his 
mind to take hold of me. This touched a tender chord 
in the old lady’s nature. I was her only, and youngest, 
son, whom she always called her ‘* baby.” ** Well,” 
she replied, ‘*I do not know how you may come out 
with Harding, but I will risk David with you any- 
where.” So having thus drawn the old lady’s fire, he 
never after made her house a stopping-place. 

The suit was a draw-game : neither seem to have been 
victorious. 

Some may think it strange that I should have given 
up trade, which was the most reputable business on the 
Cape, and return to my old busines, driving on my old 
route, which for four years had been done by my wife's 


’ 


4 
. 


THE LIFE OF DAVID SNOW. 133 


brother. But so it was to be. To this work I added 
farming, and the building of a new bake-house near my 
dwelling. 

Isold my old homestead to one Childs, who com- 
menced an opposition baking establishment, but did 
not succeed. Iwas not to be run off the track; and 
so after a while he gave it up; and, the Sandwich baker 
failing in business, I had the whole field to myself. 

My wife, though having been out of the baking busi- 
ness so long, was still quite ready and willing to assist 
me in getting in the batches. She had not grown 
proud, though her husband, at this time, was worth 
four thousand eight hundred dollars,— had a good 
farm, and money at interest. 

My place of meeting was at Yarmouth-Port. Here 
I attended the Methodist church. 

Among the ministers who frequently preached there 
was Dr. Upham, the presiding elder. I remained in 
Barnstable two years, during which time Addie and 
Henry were added to our family. Death had taken 
one at Wellfleet, whom we buried near the old church 
on the hill. 

My income in the baking business was six hundred 
dollars a year, about the same that I made in trade. 
In the two years in Barnstable I had added to my prop- 
erty about twelve hundred dollars, making me worth 
six thousand dollars, —a wealthy man for Cape Cod. 

Thad now reached a point in wealth which I formerly 


12 


134 FROM POVERTY TO PLENTY. 


thought. would satisfy me, but, instead of that, I was 
just as anxious for more as I was when I had but four 
hundred and fifty dollars. I was as industrious and 
saving as ever. When I talk economy to my children, 
telling them how I used to do, their reply is, ‘* Times 
are not now as then.” My answer is, Just the same to 
those who are situated as I was. The ‘change is in us, 
not in the times. 

I could always turn my hand to anything that came 
along, — trade, bake, work a farm, —in fact, do any- 
thing. I occasionally had prayer meetings at my house, 
was chorister at Yarmouth, and was complimented on 
my singing by Mr. Reed, the lawyer of the town, who 
attended the Methodist meeting. The Methodists were 
my people, —I owe them a debt of gratitude I shall 
never be able to pay, for under their influence my 
whole life was changed, and it became valuable and 


happy. 


CHAPTER X. 


PLACE FOUND AT LAST. 


‘¢Toil, and be glad! let industry inspire 
Into your quickened limbs her buoyant breath! 
Who does not act is dead: absolved entire 
In miry sloth, no pride, no joy he hath; 
O leaden-hearted man, to be in love with death.” 
— James Thompson. 


EVER felt that I had not found my place, and 

hence my mind was not at rest. To me there seemed 
something better in the future; and yet I never dared 
to look very much beyond Cape Cod. Here I expect- 
ed to live and die. 

My love of, or desire for wealth, so increased that I 
was not satisfied with laying up simply six hundred dol- 
lars a year. I felt as though I ought to be doing some- 
thing more. There was a farm adjoining mine, of about 
thirty acres, with about seventy acres of woodland, 
which would supply my bake-house with wood for 
years. As wood was becoming scarce, and as this tract 
run across the Cape to Hyannis, I was looking well 


ahead. This place was in the market and could be 
135 


136 FROM POVERTY TO PLENTY; OR, 


bought for two thousand seven hundred dollars. I 
could pay for it, and the thought suggested itself to 
me, that with that farm I should be the greatest farmer 


on the Cape. The more I thought of it the more I was — 


inclined to purchase it. Hawes & Gray, of Boston, had 
it for sale. One of the partners had married into the 
Gorham family. In its day it was one of the best es- 
tates in Barnstable ; but it had been neglected, and con- 
sequently had run down. The old people had died, and 
the girls were married and moved away. The family 
was of the aristocratic order in those days. There 
seemed to be a special Providence following me all 
along, for if I had bought that farm I should have been 
fixed there for life. 

I came to Boston expecting to purchase, and made 
up my mind to offer twenty-five hundred dollars, and 
did offer it; but they declined to sell for less than twen- 
ty-seven hundred. I waited some days, hoping they 
would accept my offer; but they would not, so I went 
to Brighton and bought a horse, and rode to Barnstable 
on horseback. I stopped at home a while, and a cousin 
of my wife proposed to open a store at Great Marshes, 
and I thought of taking an interest with him, and partly 
agreed to do so. I came to Boston the following June, 
and failing to secure the farm at my price, was impressed 
to set up business in the city, and try my luck there. 

City Wharf had been leased to a company for twenty 
years. The company had just finished a block of ten 


THE LIFE OF DAVID SNOW. 137 


stores on the same. Somehow—TI never could tell 
why —I took a lease of one of the stores for three 
years, at eight hundred dollars a year, and let all above 
the lower floor for three hundred dollars, to Horace 
Scudder & Co. They were agents for the New York 
and Baltimore packets. 

This was a bold move on my part, as I had never been 
educated a merchant, and had to come in competition 
with experienced men in the West India business, — 
men like Hawes, Gray & Co., and Joshua Sears. 
When Gray found that I was going into the same busi- 
ness as himself, and that there was no hope of selling 
me the farm, he accepted the same offer from Capt. 
Piercell which I had made him. 

Some little time before I came to Boston, I went to 
New Bedford, with a view of engaging in business there, 
as the town was at that time at the height of its prosper- 
ity in the whaling business. I stopped all night with a 
good Methodist brother, whom I had met the year pre- 
vious at Eastham camp-meeting. I saw him standing 
one day outside his tent, with some grass in his hand, : 
saying that he was going to take it home as a memento, 
for it was on that spot that God sanctified his soul. 
We occupied the same room at his house in New Bed- 
ford, his wife being absent. About midnight a girl 
who lived in the family came to the door in great dis- 
tress of mind, and asked us to pray for her. We arose 
and had a season of prayer for her. 


138 FROM POVERTY TO PLENTY; OR, 


New Bedford, at that time, was taking the lead in 
the whaling business. Though Nantucket had been the 
principal whaling place for many years, yet New Bed- 
ford, having a very much better harbor, was taking the 
business. JI did not decide to settle there, and it was 
well I did not, for the place soon after began to decline. 

I was, as the reader must have seen, of a roving dis- 
position. I could not stay long in one place, as I had 
not yet found the place where I could settle for life. 

I met on the wharf, in Boston, one day, a man whom | 
I had known when in trade at Wellfleet, by the name 
of Crosby, a carpenter. He was landing his furniture 
from the packet. I askéd him what he was about. He 
said he was following me: I had been a rolling stone, 
and had succeeded, and he thought he would succeed 
by rolling. But having a large family, and not suc- 
ceeding in keeping a boarding-house, he was but too — 
glad to move back to Orleans and give up rolling. I 
have learned that it is bad policy to follow others, as 
we may be unlike those we follow, and may not, like 
them, have the real element of success in us. 

The strong desire which had long burned within me 
to be a merchant or banker was about to be realized, 
though my trouble had not yet ended. The old saying, 
‘¢ Let well enough alone,” would seem to apply to me. 
I was well to do in Wellfleet, and in Barnstable, and I 
had no valid excuse for changing. But I was ambi- 
tious to reach a higher standpoint. Then I thought it 
might be better for my children. 


THE LIFE OF DAVID SNOW. 139 


After I had hired my store I offered young Parker 
one-third interest with me. Hereadily accepted. I had 
two signs made before leaving Barnstable, as I could 
get them done cheaper there than in Boston. I said 
one day to Parker, that we would go over to Central 
Wharf and back those signs to the store, and save twen- 
ty-five cents, the cost of carting them over. So we 
waited until dark and then did the job, not being will- 
ing to be seen backing our signs in the day-time. I 
have always kept those signs, and have them now. 

I came to Boston in July of the year that the Asiatic 
cholera was at its height. Passing along the streets one 
day I saw a funeral procession, and was told ‘that the 
man died with cholera. I was much alarmed, as our 
physicians knew but little of the disease at that time. 

Before leaving Barnstable I made arrangements with 
Mr. Fish, my brother-in-law, to carry on the baking busi- 
ness as I had done, and have the place ready for me in 
case I did not succeed in Boston. I soon had my store 
supplied with such articles as were usually kept in a 
West India goods store. | . 

Coming in contact with merchants in that depart- 
ment of trade, I soon found that I was hardly up to 
what was considered a practical Boston merchant. But 
what I did not know I was bound to learn. I felt that 
industry and a close application to business would ulti- 
mately succeed. My first bill of goods was bought of 
Copeland & Co., a firm with which I used to trade 


140 FROM POVERTY TO PLENTY; OR, 


when in Wellficet. The bill amounted to sixteen hun- 
dred dollars, and was to be paid half in four and half 
in six months. As I had never run in debt before to 
any considerable amount, and-as trade was very-dull, 
I was becoming rather discouraged. The first day I 
sold one bag of shot only, at a profit of six cents, 
while my rent amounted to two dollars and sixty-seven 
cents per day. Matters looked rather blue. 

We had taken a cheap boarding place in Franklin 
Street. But I soon found that to open a store in Bos- 
ton, and on Cape Cod, were very different things. 
There a new store, for a time, at least, took all the 
trade ; but in Boston it was just the opposite, — it took 
time. Dull times, no trade, sixteen hundred dollars 
worth of notes out; these would press upon my 
thoughts, and it seemed that I could never pay them. 
I went to my boarding-house from my store, having 
done but little, and retired early. But sleep departed 
from me. My nervous system became perfectly pros- 
‘ trated. I rolled over and over and tried to sleep, but — 
it would not come. The thought that my notes would 
become due soon, increased my already intensely excited 
feelings, and I found no relief but in a flood of tears. 
I was completely broken in spirit, and knew not what 
to do. No relief came to my feelings until I had de- 
termined to go to Copeland & Co. and get them to 
take back the goods and return my notes, and charge 
me what they thought would be right, and I would sell 


THE LIFE OF DAVID SNOW. 141 


the balance, which I had bought for cash. I would 
then return to my farm and bake-house, and abandon 
my Boston enterprise. After I had reached that deci- 
sion I got a little sleep. 

The next morning the wind was north-west — cool 
and bracing. I thought it all over; of what my neigh- 
bors would say, and had said. One of them used to 
laugh at me for leaving a good farm and business for 
Boston. Another said: ‘‘ Snow, we will give you two 
months to be back again in your old bake-house.” 
Captain Huckins, an old packet-master, laughed at me, 
and expressed his surprise at my giving up so good a 
business for one that was uncertain. Thinking of all 
this, my courage revived. I could not bear the idea of 
meeting the laugh of my old friends, which I felt almost 
sure would come on my return. I could never bear to 
fail in an undertaking. I finally concluded that I would 
try a little longer, and see how matters worked. 

I was obliged to educate myself daily, as my partner 
was of little service tome. He was an easy-going sort 
of a man, more interested in reading a novel than in 
trade; so that the whole responsibility fell on me. 
Being a sort of live Yankee, I was everywhere — look- 
ing into everything and asking all manner of questions 
of all who would answer me. In fact, I asked so many 
questions that my neighbors began to conclude that I 
was a little green, though not so green as they supposed. 
An old tea merchant, by the name of French, with 


142 FROM POVERTY TO PLENTY; OR, 


whom I traded some, I thought a good subject to ques- 
tion. Having understood that there was some profit on — 
the tare of tea, I asked him one day how much was 

saved on the tare of a chest of tea. He looked me 

steadily in the face, with a kind of a fatherly look, and 
said: ‘* Young man, with whom did you serve your ap- 
prenticeship in the trade?” I had to own that all I 

knew about the business was what I had picked up as 

best I could, by asking similar questions. Looking me 

still in the face, pleasantly, he said: ** Young man, if 

you have earned a little money in the country, Boston 

is a good place to lose it:” which advice I never forgot, 
and afterwards he and I had many a good laugh over it. 

I found what the old man said was true. 

My old friends on the Cape continued to prophesy — 
that Snow would fail this time, sure. Those most 
friendly to me were of the opinion that I was not in my 
proper sphere. One Capt. Newcomb said to me one 
day: ‘* Snow, you with either go ahead or fall astern,” 
—giving me to understand that I should go astern. 
These remarks, made by my friends, only stimulated 
me to greater exertions, and to keep constantly on the 
watch. There were a good many merchants in Boston 
at that time who came from the Cape, and had been 
successful. They had maintained a good character for 
honesty and integrity ; so much so that when one, buy- 
ing goods of a stranger, or at auction, reported that he 
was from the Cape, this fact established his credit. All 


THE LIFE OF DAVID SNOW. . 143 


these things acted as a sort of spur to urge me on, and 
never to relax my efforts. Iwas resolved to succeed, 
and never to say die. I had, to be sure, left a certainty 
for an uncertainty, and I felt that I was on a tempestu- 
ous sea, where many had been wrecked, and I might be 
as unfortunate as they, and even become bankrupt. 
There seemed no good and sufficient reason why I should 
have ventured my all on an experiment so uncertain as 
the one in which I had embarked. My roving disposi- 
tion still clung to me, indicating that I had not reached 
my place. I was determined to be a merchant or a 
banker of the first grade. This, to me, seemed my des- 
tiny. I never looked back, or thought d¥ doing so, but 
once, and that was when those notes got on my brain, 
and I was sure I could never pay them. I was now 
thirty-five years of age, —in the prime of life, — with 
my health fully restored. 

My partner, Mr. Parker, became sick, and not being 
as much interested in trade as I thought he ought to be, 
I seriously contemplated making some change. I told 
him we must have more capital. After some hesitation 
on his part, he agreed to sell out, and I was to allow 
him twenty-five dollars a month, and interest on his 
capital. 

Being acquainted with one Smith Eldridge, an old 
trader at Chatham, who, like myself, had expressed a 
desire to move to Boston, and being worth about three 
thousand dollars, — two thousand of which he could 


144 FROM POVERTY TO PLENTY; OR, 


put into trade, it being about the same that I had, —I 
concluded to take him into partnership. We finally 
agreed upon terms, and engaged for three years. His 
capital was a note due in six months from the party to 
whom he had sold his goods in store, This note we 
took to the Traders’ Bank, and had it discounted, which 
required four weeks to accomplish, they paying us five 
hundred dollars per week. 

Mr. Parker did not long remain in my employ. He 
returned to Barnstable, and married a young lady by 
the name of Bursley, a daughter of one of the richest 
farmers in town; by whom, at her father’s death, he 
received some two thousand dollars, and opened a coun- 
try store, as he and I had arranged to do before I took 
the Boston fever. 

I moved my family, soon after, to Boston, renting a 
house with one Baker, from the Cape; the rent being 
two hundred and fifty dollars. As we had never, up to 
this time, enjoyed the luxury of a carpet, my wife and 
I thought as we had got to the ‘‘ hub of the universe ” 
we must appear a little like other people. So one after- 
noon we promenaded Hanover Street in search of a ear- 
pet, and finally fixed upon one for which we paid fifty 
cents per yard. The texture was simply cotton. We 
took it home, my wife made it, and very soon it was on 
’ the floor. We had but one front room, and one cham- 
ber, with a right in the kitchen to wash. But with our 
new carpet, we were feeling quite proud; and not wish- 


THE LIFE OF DAVID SNOW. 145 


ing to have our joy alone, we invited our neighbors in 
to see it; all praising it as a beautiful thing. We were 
never so happy with a carpet before nor since. So much 
for our first carpet. - 

My family did not long remain in Boston. I removed 
them back to the old farm; but doing business in Bos- 
ton, and living on the Cape, I found did not work well, 
- though I was determined after a few years, if matters 
worked well, and I was successful, to move back and 
settle permanently on my farm ; and, in view of this, 
actually purchased some ten acres of land adjoining 
mine. I also planted a young orchard, and was pre- 
paring for a comfortable home. Though I was unde- 
cided in regard to that, I was determined to make my 
business a success, as I always did believe that if a man 
wills in early life to succeed in any profession or calling, 
with proper self-reliance, he will, as a general thing, be 
successful, and often far beyond his most sanguine ex- 
pectations. Moho 

After my business connection with Eldridge our trade 
greatly increased. We took nearly all of the Cape 
trade, which was considered the best kind of trade, as 
they always paid cash. Quite different was that which 
came from Maine. One time, when absent on a visit to 
my family on the Cape, my partner sold a lot of goods 
_to Kelley & Sewell, of Bangor, amounting to seven 
hundred dollars. My partner was a poor salesman. 


His judgment of human nature was not good. Ifa 
ghee 


146 FROM POVERTY TO PLENTY}; OR, 


person offered him his price, he would sell without 
much reference to the pay, not seemihg to consider that 
ability to pay was everything. On my return, finding 
that he had made this trade, I said to him that it was a 
bad debt, and I set myself at work to secure it, but 
without success, as “they failed soon after and we lost 
every dollar. This hurt us very much, as it took one- 
sixth of our capital. We sued the concern and obtained 
judgment, and I have it still. I look at it occasionally 
to refresh my memory in regard to old times. 

Together, my partner and I had a large acquaintance 
on the Cape, from which our trade mostly came. The 
Bangor trade sickened me of eastern merchants; in 
fact, I soon learned that Bangor had taken its millions 
out of Boston in the way of failures. 

I naturally read human nature pretty well. When 
one came to trade with us, I made it a special point to 
inquire into his history. I would ask him all sorts of 
questions, — who his father and mother were; what 
business they followed; what he had been doing; 
how much he was worth, etc. In this way I could 
form a judgment as to whether it would be safe to 
trust him, and if I trusted him at all I seldom ever 
made a mistake, as my whole business life shows. It 
used to be said that goods well bought were more than 
half sold. Success in trade depends on being a good 
judge of goods, and to buy them at the right time; 
and when once established, sellers will come to you 


THE LIFE OF DAVID SNOW. ~* 147 


‘and urge you to buy, and then you can usually make 
your own price. 

At the end of the year 1834, we took account of 
stock, and found that we had made three thousand six 
hundred and thirty-one dollars clear of store expenses, 
and nine hundred and eight dollars poor debts. This 
we reckoned quite well for the first year. Our family 
expenses, especially those of my partner, took nearly 
all of this. JI laid up about one thousand dollars. 

I had now seen about what could be done, and that 
I must either make up my mind to return to the Cape 
or settle in Boston. Doing business on the Cape did 
not quite suit me, so I concluded to stay in Boston. 
My wife did not like to live on the Cape and I in Bos- 
ton; so I rented half a house in Federal Court, for two 
hundred dollars per year, and moved my family to 
Boston for the second time. Soon after, I sold my 
farm in Barnstable to my old partner, Fish, for two 
thousand five hundred dollars, still entertaining the 
thought that at some distant time I might return to the 
Cape and spend my days, for there lay the bones of 
the ancestors of myself and wife. 

Our firm was David Snow & Co., which kept me - 
before the public as the head of the concern. This 
was favorable to me. It takes a long time, in such a 
place as Boston or New York, to get a name fairly be- 
fore the public. In this respect it differs from a coun- 
try village. There you are known to all at once, but 
here you are overshadowed by old establishments. 


148 FROM POVERTY TO PLENTY; OR, 


Our business continued to grow, and haying dis- 
posed of my farm, and not thinking it advisable to 
have my all in trade, I concluded to invest in a dwell- 
ing house. I purchased a house on Garden Court, 
near North Square,—then, by some, called Court 
Square, because in the early settlement of Boston the 
sessions of the court were held at the North End, and 
as a place of residence it was considered the most aris- 
tocratic. I paid for my house four thousand four hun- 
dred dollars, giving a mortgage for the balance above 
the receipts from the sale of my farm, thus contracting 
my farm of twenty-four acres into some nine hundred 
feet of land, with two thousand dollars in addition. 
This house adjoined Father Taylor’s residence in Prince 
Street. 

Having removed to my new home, and being near 
Bennett Street, I made that my place of worship, 
though at that time I was quite low in my religious 
experience. I was absorbed in business. I was at my 
store hard at work at least an hour before breakfast, a 
thing not done by merchants now. I would put on my 
green jacket and overhauls, and work like any laborer 
in the store, while my wife, with four children, did her 
own work in the house. So we lived, and so we worked 
our way up the rough paths of life. 

Towards the close of the second year I began to 
“think of dissolving partnérship, and ruuning the ma- 
chine alone. I had taken a young man from North 


THE LIFE OF DAVID SNOW. 149 


Dennis, by the name of Paddock, as an apprentice, 
who boarded with me._ With his assistance I thought 
I could work the ship. 

When I began housekeeping in Federal Court, I had 
never secn any anthracite coal; but a family in the 
house used it, and I concluded to try it. So one day, 
as an experiment, I went down cellar and took some 
of their coal to see how it would work, and to my dis- 
appointment it put out the fire. This was my first 
effort at burning coal, and it was years after before I 
could make it burn. I have learned the art since. 

Mr. Eldridge, my partner, was not sufficiently enter- 
prising for a city like Boston; besides, he was the 
poorest judge of character I ever knew. In conse- 
quence of this I found that we were making many bad 
debts. His idea of a bargain was, to sell if he could 
get his price, though it was worth twenty-five per cent. 
to guarantee the debt. My plan was to sell only to 
those whom I was satisfied would pay. I could then selt 
‘at a small profit and secure the trade. I was always 
early at the store; and would usually sell a bill of goods 
before breakfast, or before my partner arrived. 


A LAND SPECULATION. 


During our second year there was great excitement 
in eastern lands. One of our customers, a city grocer, 
who owed us seventy-five dollars, sold out privately 


he 


150 FROM POVERTY TO PLENTY; OR, 


and left the city for parts unknown. We suspected he 
had gone to Portland, and I followed him to that city, 
but failed to find him. While at Portland, I observed 
that the land fever was very high. Everybody seemed 
to be deeply interested in buying and selling land. 
Nearly every man you met accosted you with, ‘* Do 
you want to buy such a piece of land, or such a town- 
ship?” and pulling out a map of a township, through 
which ran several large streams, convenient for getting 
lumber to market, would try to induce you to buy. 
Every public house was filled with strangers from all over 
the country, attracted’there by the land excitement. 
They were buying and selling and getting rich on paper. 

Failing to find my debtor, though I found his wife, 
I took passage on board a steamer for Boston. On the 
boat, as at public-houses, timber-land was the chief 
subject of conversation. It was not difficult to become 
introduced to strangers. I became acquainted with a 
man who kept the Howard House, in Boston. He had 
been employed by a firm in Boston to'go down to 
Maine to examine a township which had been highly 
recommended ; but, as was the case generally, he did 
not find it quite up to the description. But he said he 
had secured a bond of another lot of about three thous- 
and acres, only eight miles from Bangor, at three dol- 
lars per acre. Upon further conversation, he said he 
should offer this to the parties who had sent him to 
examine the other lot, and if they did not take it, he 


THE LIFE OF DAVID SNOW. Te 


wanted to get up a company and purchase it. He was 
of the opinion that they would not buy it, as they had 
been disappointed in the other township. Sure enough, 
they declined to take it, so he came to me. We got 
up a company of four to visit the spot, and if we found 
it to be as good as represented, to buy it. We made a 
‘joint note for the amount, nine thousand dollars, and 
got the money out of the Market Bank. I took one- 
half and Captain Howe the other, and tied it around 
our bodies, and off we started for Maine, as jolly a set 
of fellows as ever came together. Our company con- 
sisted of Captains Nickerson, Huckins, and Howe, the 
tavern-keeper and myself. We took the steamer 
‘‘ Bangor,” and stopped:at Portland, where we took 
the stage for Augusta, and then a private team for 
Bangor, and thence to our Eldorado, eight miles up 
the river. We arrived Saturday night, and took lodg- 
ings at what was called in those days a rum-tavern. 

On our way down we were very jolly in expectation 
of fortunes to be made. Our plans were all matured: 
we built saw-mills, chartered vessels to take our lumber 
to the West Indies, built a wharf at South Boston to 
store our sugar and molasses, and what cordwood we 
might ship to Boston, —in fact, we discussed the whole 
matter thoroughly. 

Early Sunday morning (we could not wait till Mon- 
day, as the king’s business required haste) we secured 
_a guide, and with a canoe started off to explore our 


152 FROM POVERTY TO PLENTY; OR, 


coveted prize. The stream up which we went was 
rapid, and it was near noon before we reached the place. 
Without any delay we commenced our exploration in 
good earnest. Capt. Nickerson was soon measuring an 
old pine tree ; and, to his great joy, found that it would 
make so many thousand feet of lumber. I walked 
around it, and on examination, found it to be rotten- 
hearted. We discovered, also, that the land being 
near Bangor, all the best timber had been cut off and 
manufactured into shingles. So we got a hearty laugh 
upon the Captain. 

We found the three thousand acres to be divided 
about as follows: One-third pond or lake, one-third 
bog or marsh, — from which the little stream up which 
we forced our boat took its rise, —and the balance, 
once fair pine timber-land, but, unfortunately for us, 
all the good trees had been used for shingles, and in- 
stead of pine trees, spruce, hemlock, and birch had 
taken their place, and it was with difficulty that we 
could get through them. But I was determined to see all 
that was to be seen; so I ascended a rising piece of 
ground and climbed an old tree, from which I could see 
all the land below. I satisfied myself that our fortune, 
in that direction, was not to be made there. Disap- 
pointed and down-hearted, we made our way back to 
our canoe, and returned to the old rum-tavern, all jaded 
and tired out; and, though I seldom ever used liquor, 
a little New England rum and molasses seemed to go to 


THE LIFE OF DAVID SNOW. 153 


the tired spot, and, under the circumstances, tasted 
good. We slept comfortably that night, though I was 
climbing trees the most of the time in my sleep. In 
the morning we were early off for Bangor, where we 
were detained for some time, waiting for the steamer. 
The modes of conveyance in those days were not what 
they are now. No railroads nor steamboats between 
Boston and Bangor except one, which made one trip a 
week. Wewere dependent upon the old, rickety stage- 
coach. . E 

Though all the representations about making fortunes 
in eastern lands had not proved true, —at least, in our 
case, —I still thought that from the statements made by 
others, and even by my neighbors, of the fortunes 
made, that there must be something in it; but being 
naturally cautious, I was not very much inclined to 
swallow the animal whole ; and being deceived in regard 
to the heater piece, it added considerably to my caution. 
While at Bangor we were surrounded by scores of 
speculators, who seemed to know nothing and talk of 
nothing but townships of land; and many of them were . 
said to have made ten, twenty, and even fifty thousand 
dollars in a single purchase; and yet it seemed very 
wonderful to me that in all these sales little or no money 
was used. It was all on paper. A man would pay one 
hundred dollars for a bond, and then sell the bond and 
take notes, payable in six, eight, and twelve months. 
And so this bond would be sold from one to another. 


154 FROM POVERTY TO PLENTY; OR, - 


But with all the money made by my friends on City 
Wharf, every one of them failed up in less than four 
years, 

While we were waiting for the boat, some of our 
company contracted a second fever, and actually bought 
half a township of land, still farther east, without see- 
ing it; though we had each agreed on our ride from 
Augusta to Bangor, that if the tract of land which we 
were on our way to explore did not prove to be as 
good as we expected, and another lot should turn up, 
and one or more should buy, all should have an oppor- 
tunity of sharing in the purchase. 

It is said that there is honor among thieves; but 
Nickerson and Howe made the purchase without saying 
anything to Kilburn or myself. -After we had got a 
pretty good insight into eastern land speculation, at 
least, so far as I was concerned, we left for Boston ; 
all, except Nickerson and Howe, considerably down- 
hearted. Théy seemed quite reserved, and kept much 
by themselves — would visit the bar quite often; and 
when we arrived in Portland they went up to the hotel 
to lodge, though their tickets furnished lodging on 
board the boat. 

At Portland we met several of our acquaintances on 
their way to the Eldorado, where fortunes were made 
without much labor. They were as full of hope and as 
sure of success as some of us had been a short time 
before. By the time I arrived at home, short about 


THE LIFE OF DAVID SNOW. 155 


. fifty dollars, I was completely cured of the ‘land 
fever,” — though the medicine was expensive, and was 
about as bad as the disease. I was fully satisfied that 
if I was ever to possess a fortune, it did not lay in that 
direction. 

A few days after our return, Captain Howe, one of 
our party, who had agreed that whatever purchases 
were made, all should share equally in them, had actu- 
ally purchased, with Captain Nickerson, and had con- 
cealed it from the rest. He had written a letter to 
Captain Huckins, and came into my store to copy it, 
and, unfortunately for him, left the manuscript on the 
desk. Judge of my surprise when I read it, as read I 
did, though it was not intended for my eyes. In the 
letter he said: ‘‘ We did not buy the heater piece we 
went to explore, as it did not come up to the represent- 
ations made to us, but we have purchased a half town- 
ship some seventy miles farther east, with a few confi- 
dential friends, both here and there.” The cat was out 
of the bag, and it accounted for their conduct on their 
passage homeward. 

When this became known to Kilburn and myself, we 
were greatly surprised that a part of our company 
should have proved traitors. But so it was. My part- 
ner was terribly worked up about it, and put in his 
claim for an interest in the purchase, according to con- 
tract, and pressed it so earnestly that they were obliged 
to let him in. I was left out, as I preferred to be. 


156 FROM POVERTY TO PLENTY}; OR, - 


' The expression in the letter to Huckins, that they had 
bought half a township with a few confidential friends 
both here and there, furnished an opportunity to those 
who were acquainted with the transaction, whenever 
they met, to have a hearty laugh over it at the expense 
of these confidential friends. My partner was so bent 
on making his fortune in lands, that he was not satisfied 
with his eastern purchase, but, with others, he made a 
purchase in New Hampshire. Such was the mania for 
land, that one might have imagined that there was not 
land enough in New England to bury the dead on. 
But in one year from that time I dissolved with El- 
dridge, and he took in Nickerson, who let him into the 
land speculation. In about a year the land fever began 
to subside, and men allowed their common sense to 
guide them. ; 


FIRST ACQUAINTANCE WITH ISAAC RICH. 


I was a constant attendant at Bennet-Street Church_ 
at this time ; a member of the choir, and played the big 
fiddle, as I used to at Wellfleet. Here I became ac- 
quainted with Isaac Rich, whose wife was a member of 
the choir. He used to buy his fall and winter groceries 
of me, for his widowed mother and sister, residing at 
Wellfleet, and very poor. This was a noble act, and 
for it, no doubt, a kind Providence blessed his labors, 
and to it his success in after years is attributable: Mr. 
Rich was ever kind to his mother. His father died 


. 
—s. ' 


THE LIFE OF DAVID SNOW. 157 


when he was about ten years old. I am fully confident 
that if we honor our parents God will honor and bless 
us. 

T have already referred to my relations with Mr. El- 
dridge, and the dissolution of our partnership. I wili 
further say, that in 1836 I had fully determined to dis- 
solve, but my partner was so much opposed to it that 
I consented to continue another year, on the following 
conditions: If either judged best to sell a bill of goods 
to a party to whom the other objected, he might do so 
and be allowed a commission of two and a half per 
cent., and the amount of the bill to be charged to his 
account. In every case where I objected, the parties 
failed during the year. 

Our business was very good — much better than dur- 
ing the two previous years. This year our business 
netted six thousand dollars, against twenty-eight hun- 
dred in the previous year. But I found that my check 
on my partner had no effect. He was so self-confident 
that I thought best to dissolve ; so in January, 1837, 
_ the firm of David Snow & Co., which had existed three 
years, was dissolved. I had worked hard, day and 
night, to build up our trade, and had secured a good 
business. But how to get rid of my partner I did not 
know. He insisted that I should make a proposition ; 
and failing to get one from him, and seeing no other 
way but to make one myself, I did so. Though our 


firm stood well for credit, and we had a run of valuable 
4 


158 FROM POVERTY TO PLENTY}; OR, 


customers, yet I somehow rather pitied Eldridge, for it 
seemed he had no other way to earn a living, and had 
an expensive family. So, looking the matter all over, 
I named a price which was very low. I proposed to 
give or take three hundred dollars—a proposition 
which he readily accepted, and I was sold out. I had 
the conviction that it would be so, but was still confi- 
dent in my own destiny. But to show up selfish human 
nature: In our agreement I was to have the upper part 
of the store, and he the lower floor and cellar. The 
lease, which stood in my name, expired, and while I 
was on the Cape arranging for a line of packets between 
Boston and Albany, he took out a new lease in his own 
name, and forbid me to underlet any part of the store 
which I was to occupy. Having engaged a part of the 
counting-room to Huckins & Bassett, for an insurance 
oflice, to lessen my rent, as I was to embark in an en- 
tirely new business, having verbally agreed not to go 
into the grocery business for one year, I was suddenly 
met with a serious drawback, which resulted in my yva- 
cating the premises altogether. This, on his part, was 
not treating me as I had treated him; and yet on my 
part I carried out the agreement to the very letter. I 
commenced commission business in flour, grain, and 
fish ; and, to my surprise, he headed me off in this, and 
actually began to occupy some of the lofts. I said but 
little, but bided my time, and soon left the store altoge- 
ther, and took another, leaving him in possession of the 


THE LIFE OF DAVID SNOW. 159 


entire store.. I now went more extensively into the 
flour and grain business, and had assignments of ship- 
plank from Lockport, N. Y., which paid well. Eldridge 
tried to head me off in every effort I made to succeed 
in my new business, but I kept steadily on in my trade. 
I did not even attempt to compete with him at all. I 
organized what was called a new line of packets, con- 
sisting of six vessels, to run between Boston and Al- 
bany. It must be remembered that there were no rail- 
roads at that time, and all the products of Western New 
York and the Western States came, mainly, through 
the New York Canal, which terminated at Troy and 
Albany, and thence by vessels to New York City and 
Boston. Iwas the agent for these packets in Boston, 
and a Mr. Wing was agent in Albany. He was one of 
the stockholders, and to freight our vessels we bought 
and sold large quantities of fish, flour, corn, barley, 
butter, and cheese. This made business for me in which 
I was not inactive. I was up and at it with all my 
might. Young Paddock acted as my clerk, which kept 
my expenses down, and I let my old partner have his 
own way without let or hindrance, so far as I was con- 
cerned,-though we were near each other —on the same 
wharf. I felt somehow that he would not succeed, and 
his failure proved to be only a question of time. There 
were elements in his character which were not adapted to | 
make him a successful Boston merchant. Unfortunate- 
ly, when he took a new partner, he led off in the busi- 


160 FROM POVERTY TO PLENTY; OR, 


ness. Captain Nickerson was a master-mariner, and 
his object in taking an interest with Eldridge was to 
make a place for his brother Thomas. Eldridge had 
the advantage of me, as he took all our old customers, 

and I was left to build up a new trade. A new set of 

customers had to be secured. Had he possessed the 
capacity for trade in a large city he would have suc- 
ceeded; but this he had not. A few years after, he 
dissolved with Nickerson, took in another partner, 
made a sort of failure, and moved into the Western 
part of New. York, where he purchased a farm, on 

which was a large mortgage, the interest of which, and 
the cost of supporting his family, being so considerable, 

that his resources were exhausted, and he was unable to 

make both ends meet. He sold the right of redemption 
in his farm, and moved back to Boston, where he went 

into the egg trade. Not succeeding in that, his friends 

made up a joint-stock store for him, inviting me to take 

some stock. This I declined to do. While I never 
followed a man to injure him, yet when a man tries to 

injure me as he did, it takes me a long time to forget it. 

The stock company was a failure, and the last I heard 

of Eldridge he was manufacturing soap at Cambridge, 

and was said to be very poor. 

Soon after I dissolved with Eldridge, I rented a 
wooden store at the head of the City Wharf, and in the 
course of a few years I built up a good business, and I 
felt as if I could manage it alone, though I had pur- 


THE LIFE OF DAVID SNOW. 161 


posed to resume my old trade at the conclusion of the 

year. But I did not; and had I, it would have ruined 
- Eldridge, as I could have easily taken all his trade in a” 
short time. Iam glad now that I did not, as it would 
have given cause for unfavorable criticism to those thus 
disposed. I believe a man will generally come out 
better to do as he would have others do by him. I 
was now pretty well established in the commission 
business, had the agency of a new line of packets, and 
had increased my capital to ten thousand dollars. The 
first year I commenced business for myself I made 
some six thousand dollars, So much for steering my 
own ship, without being under the necessity of divid- 
ing my profits with any one. I worked hard by day 
and by night, and allowed no grass to grow under my 
feet. Up with the sun, and seldom ever through with 
my work until nine o’clock at night, I felt sure that 
success must attend such unwearied industry. 

My relations with Mr. Wing, of Albany, proved profit- 
ables though I had competitors in almost everything, 
yet I was never thrown off the track. Opposition seemed 
to wake me up and bring out all of energy there was 
in me. Wing at Albany and Snow in Boston were 
more than a match for the opposition; it had to give 
way, and we came out ahead. It was a common re- 
mark among our competitors, that Snow and Wing 
were too smart for them, and that they were bound to 
succeed and make money. 


7 
a 
Pa a 


162 FROM POVERTY TO PLENTY; OR, 


The shoe trade just began to take the lead, and most 
of them were being shipped West, via Albany; and I 
‘used to visit all the shoe stores every day for freight 
for our line. There was a firm by the name of Walker 
& Emerson, whose store was in South Market Street, 
and usually full of boxes of shoes. I used to won- 
der where a market could be found for so many shoes. 
But now a store of that capacity would hardly be 
thought of any account, so rapidly has the shoe trade 
increased. At present it is the largest branch of 
manufacturing industry in the country. It has con- 
tinued to take the lead, until there is more capital and 
working-men engaged in the shoe and leather business 
than in any other. 

I owned more or less of the line of packets. After 
about two years my commission had so inereased that 
it required all the time I had to look after its interests ; 
for I made it a point not to overdo or take upon myself 
more than I could do well. I made a contract with 
one of the captains by the name of Seudder, whem I 
saw was smart, and seemed cut out for a trader, and 
gave him charge of the packets. After a while he 
wanted to become my partner, but I did not judge it 
best. I had built up one business and taken in a 
partner, and he had taken advantage of me, and I con- 
cluded I would not get another. I preferred to pay 
him a salary; but he was ambitious and wanted to 
do better. But I did not care to put myself into a 


THE LIFE OF DAVID SNOW. 163 


position which I might afterward regret. I. R. Wing, 
the Albany agent, who was worth about two thous- 
and dollars when we commenced the new line, wanted 
to become my partner. I thought well of him as 
a good business man, and he had become worth ten 
thousand dollars. But still there were some things in 
his make-up which did not please me. He was a man 
of fine figure and commanding personal appearance. 
My wife took a great liking to him. He usually stop- 
ped with us when in Boston, and I with him when in 
Albany. He dealt mostly in butter, cheese, and grain, 
' and shipped largely in every packet to Boston, either 
on joint account with me, or on his own account. This 
made him about as much of a partner as I cared to have 
in him, and we could make as much money as if he 
were a partner in full. My declining to enter into co- 
partnership in both cases, shows that I was far-sceing 
in that particular; though as a business man I thought 
Wing above mediocrity. But when he and Scudder 
had failed to get me to accept their proposals to become 
partners, they made up a co-partnership between them- 
selves. This I did not like; and I confess I thought 
rather hard of Scudder, as he had been in my employ 
several years, and knew as much of my business as I 
did, and I used to confide in him and trust him in the 
transaction of much of my business. These two men, 
becoming partners in business, would take the packets ; 
and as Scudder was from the Cape, and intimately ac- 





164 FROM POVERTY TO PLENTY; OR, 


quainted with all the captains, and Wing agent at 
Albany, they could control all the shipments to Boston. 
In this way I thought I should lose my new milch cow 
sure. They were both sociable and companionable, 
and to be acquainted with them.one could but like 

them, and one can judge of my surprise when it came : 
out that they had formed a business connection. Scud-— 
der was the smartest of all the captains, —a natural 
trader, and used to trade more or less between Boston 
and Albany. When freight was dull, in the spring, 
he would make a joint note and get it discounted at the 
Barnstable Bank, which was his capital in trade, for 
the season, and pay up the note in the fall after the 
freighting season was over. These captains were all 
intimate with each other, and a little envy, as usual, 
existed if one out-generaled the other. They used to 
let me into their manceuvrings now and then; and 
Scudder, before I took him into my employ, used to 
lead off in trade, and sometimes rather get the better 
of them, which they did not like; so when he tried 
some of his old games on me, some of the old captains 
let the cat out of the bag. As an example: I found 
one day that they were chuckling over something, and I 
asked what it was. No one was disposed to tell fora 
time; but it was too good a trick on me to keep to 
themselves, it being so much like some tricks he had 
played on them. I was a large shipper of codfish to 
Albany on joint account with Wing. Scudder was 


THE LIFE OF DAVID SNOW. 165 


usually out on the wharf, watching for any bargain in 
fish which might turn up, as it would make freight for 
the packet. There was a line of packets running from 
Central Wharf to Hartford, and the master lived at 
- Osterville on the Cape, a near neighbor of the master 
of our line of packets to Albany. Scudder came to 
me one day, and said that Captain Crosby had a lot of 
fish he had taken to Hartford, and failing to sell them, 
had brought them back to Boston, and we could buy 
them at such a price, which we both thought to be low. 
I said, ‘‘ Well, if you think they will pay, you may 
buy them.” So the trade was made and the fish ship- 
ped to Albany. But it came out, finally, that Scudder 
had bought the fish of Crosby on his own account, and 
then sold them to me at a higher price, and he and 
Crosby divided the profits. This settled a matter 
which afterwards worked against him, and was the 
true cause of my not taking him as a partner. I 
made him, however, discount his part of what was 
made on the fish. The captains had a good, hearty 
laugh over it, —that Scudder had out-generaled Snow, 
as he had them many atime. Though he and I were 
ever good friends, even if he was my competitor in 
_ business, yet that transaction, and some others which 
came ta my knowledge, made him feel unpleasantly. 
I have ever been of the opinion, that if one does a 
mean, under-handed act, it will never die; but its in- 
fluence will ever re-act upon them. So I advise every 


166 FROM POVERTY TO PLENTY; OR, 


young man who reads these pages, never to do an act, — 
‘ 


the remembrance of which will cause pain. It is said 
that influence never dies. So our actions, good or 
bad, will live long after these bodies moulder in the 
grave. 

The new firm of Wing & Scudder soon came out, 





2 


and was published. I must confess that for a time I — 


was a little nettled at this, as those I had counted my 
friends had turned against me. They could do what I 
could not. To make money seemed to be their ruling 
passion. In morals, some think that the end sanctifies 
the means; but I never adopted that as my motto. 
Right conduct, with industry, perseverance, and econo- 
my, was the basis of my action; and I had faith only 
in these means. Some men cannot bear prosperity. 
Wing was one of that class. Some men, when poor, 
are pretty good Christians, but when they prosper in 
business and become rich, they are apt to get upset, 
and consequently go under. Such was the fact with 
Wing. He and Scudder did a fair business, and made 
money, but with wealth Wing began to own fast horses, 
kept bad company, betted and gambled, till he lost his 
character, his money, and credit, and then became 
bankrupt. His wife died broken hearted, and the last 
I heard of him he was in California. Seudder remained 
in Boston, took in another partner, and kept on in the 
flour and commission business, and continues in it now. 
So much for one of my partners. I hardly ever knew 


THE LIFE OF DAVID SNOW. 167 


so sad a case as that of Wing. When I first became 
acquainted with him (through masters of vessels who 
became interested in the new line), he was a young 
man of as fine appearance as I ever saw. The captains 


all liked him and traded with him, and he was very 


popular. But when he became rich, he let go his hold 


‘on morality, character, wife, and children, and went 


straight to ruin. I never knew so short a career. He 


_ was the son of a Quaker, of high moral character, and 


‘had been well brought up. His wife also was of a 


good family, and, when married, they moved in good 
society. But it may truly be said of him, ‘he died as 
the fool dieth;” alienated from home, with no kind 
hand to close his eyes in death. He came near ruining 
his partner. Thus ended a co-partnership which I so 
much regretted at the time. It was fortunate that I 
did not enter into business with him. There are times 
in one’s life, when we stand on the border of melstroms, 
and did we know our danger we should tremble. I 
just escaped their deadly whirl and that was all. I 


seemed to be guided by an over-ruling Providence in 


this as well as in many other dilemmas into which others 


have fallen. Thus far I have come out safe. 

I kept an eye open, looking out for the storm that 
might come, so as not to be taken unawares. I had 
now escaped many dangers in business, and was steadily 
advancing in my trade. I kept clear of speculation, 


never made money very fast, but always managed to 


168 FROM POVERTY TO PLENTY; OR, 


lay up from five thousand to six thousand dollars per 
year, clear of all expenses. I took an inventory of my 
assets and liabilities in 1839, ’40, and found I was worth 
nineteen thousand four hundred and fifty-eight dollars. 
Hardly any one thought I was worth half that sum. 
During this time I had a very vexatious lawsuit, 
which took place about a year after I dissolved with El- 
dridge. It was on this wise: I was selling flour for a 
miller in the upper part of New York. I had visited 
him at his home, and he and his wife had been my 
guests in Boston. This was a case wherein interest was 
more influential than social relations. I had closed up 
a consignment of flour, and was ready to pay him the 
balance. He wished to know if I could not buy him a 
draft on New York. I answered, that I thought I 
could, though it was not always in the market for sale, 
as Boston owed New York, and the balance was against 
us. But after a while I found a man by the name of 
Clark, a son-in-law of Father Pickering, who drew the 
amount I wanted,—viz., two thousand dollars, — on 
one Winslow, his brother-in-law. He brought me the 
draft, made payable to my order, to which I objected, as 
that would oblige me to endorse it, and thereby make me 
responsible. He said it would make no difference, the 
draft would be paid, and being in a hurry, he would not 
go back to his store to draw a new draft. So I took it and 


passed it over to my friend, as I took him to be; but, sin- 


gularly enough, it proved the reverse. Soon after, the 


THE LIFE OF DAVID SNOW. 169 


person took the draft on his way to New York, in one of 
the Sound steamers—a boat I had frequently made 
passage in from New York to Boston. The steamer 
took fire, and was entirely destroyed, and he with her. 
Then came the tug of war. My friend, failing to get 
the money on his draft, commenced a suit against me, 
attached all my personal property, and came near stop- 
- ping me in business, as I found it quite difficult to give 
bonds. Here was another test of friendship. Those I 
had counted my friends indeed, declined. There was no 
real necessity of attaching personal property, as I had 
real estate in the city worth double the amount of the 
draft; but so it was. But in law, at that time, equity 
prevailed, and Judge Story ruled in my favor, and the 
jury acquitted me before they left their seats. It turned 
on this point: I notified the owner of the draft as soon 
as the acceptance had failed, and offered my services to 
do all I could to collect it. He made no reply; not 
even notifying me that he should look to me for the 
payment of the same, as endorser, until thirty days after 
my letter. The Judge ruled that I was not responsi- 
ble. This decision in my favor sent a thrill of joy 
through my system; for to lose two thousand dollars 
was quite a sum, especially as I did not owe it, and as 
I was worth at the time only about ten thousand. The 
lawyer who took this case told me that he would show 
that draft to any merchant in Boston, and if he could 


not secure a decision in his favor, he would give up his 
15 


170 FROM POVERTY TO PLENTY; OR, 


practice in law; but before the case came to trial, he 
was elected mayor of Boston, and transferred his law 
business to an attorney by the name of Barret, who. 
was a great chewer of the filthy weed called tobacco ; 
and when the Judge was ruling in my favor, he seemed 
to chew and spit as if he was on the anxious-seat, while 
I enjoyed it more than ever before or since. As I said 
before, the jury gave a verdict in my favor without 
leaving their seats. So ended my first lawsuit, and 
about the last, as I had no taste for the law, except the 
law of God. a 

I always took an inventory of stock every six months, 
and I could tell any one how I stood at any time. I 
kept an account, also, of family expenses. I had now 
been in Boston about six years. I came in 1833 or 34, 
worth six thousand dollars, and had more than doubled 
it. Ihad added to that amount more or less every year ; 
and never, since sitting on that stump in West Barnsta- 
ble, nearly ten years before, had I added less, above 
family and store expenses, than four hundred dollars 
a year. In most cases men make, some years, large 
profits, in business or speculation, and then lose all and 
more too; but it was not so with me. I never failed 
any year to make four hundred dollars and upwards. 
My health was good, and I kept steadily on, bringing 
all the faculties I possessed into exercise, never relaxing 
my energy, allowing myself no vacation, nor my ex- 
penses to increase. I made an entry in 1837 of my 


THE LIFE OF DAVID SNOW. abies 70) 


expenses annually. I charged myself three hundred 
dollars rent, which amounted to $1,694.00 in 1838, 
$2,024.00 in 1839, $1,854.00 in 1840, $1,803 in 1841, 
and $1,863.00 each succeeding year up to 1847. WhenI 
had a family of four children, my expenses did not ex- 
ceed $2,694.00. Of this, I gave more or less for bene- 
volent objects, and had some sickness in the family. 
While living in Garden Court, Boston, we were 
thrown into great distress on May-day. Sarah and 
Elizabeth went up to the Common to get some flowers. 
Sarah seeing some one coming in from Roxbury with 
some flowers, and not finding any on the Common, 
thought she might get some, and left Elizabeth on the 
Common till her return. But she, becoming uneasy, 
went after her, and missing each other, Sarah returned 
home without Elizabeth. Then the mother was in 
great distress, and a thousand and one stories were set 
afloat about her being carried off and dissected by doc- 
tors, etc. I employed the Boston crier, and off we 
started, ringing his bell, and crying, ‘‘ A girl lost!” 
When we arrived at near Boylston Street, the lost was 
found, which, on our return, gave joy to all in the 
house. Though there was no calf killed, yet we were 
truly grateful that the child was found. 
- JI did not connect myself with any church, which I 
- ever after considered the great error of my life; yet I 
hired half a pew in Bennet Street M. E. Church. 
Sarah attended Sunday-school, and soon after was con- 


€ 


172 FROM POVERTY TO PLENTY; OR, 


verted and became deeply interested in learning her 
lessons. She was the most precocious child of all, and — 
“was very companionable, especially to those older 
than herself. She was one of six girls who formed a 
class, and had for their teacher a Miss Sampson. They 
were about of the same age. She became a member 
of the late Isaac Rich’s class, and was beloved by all 
who knew her. She was a faithful attendant upon her 
class, even after we moved to Charlestown. But, in 
a short time, she took a violent cold, which settled upon 
her lungs, and she soon after left us for the better 
country, where there is no sickness or death. This 
was a terrible blow to us, as she was the idol of our 
family. 

Before the railroad to Albany was built, the most of 
our western produce, such as flour and grain, came to 
Boston by our line of packets, and I was frequently in 
New York to purchase flour, which I often did through 
a broker by the name of Wolfe. At one time, in the 
month of November, I bought largely for a limited 
capital, as packets did not run in the winter as now. 
My purchases were for cash, payable upon receipt of 
‘bill of laden. After my return, and the excitement 
had subsided, I began to think about my remittance to 
New York. My sales were dull, and yet I was expect- 
ing to realize from my sales to meet my ~payment. 
But I did not seem to make my usual sales, and the 
amount I had to, pay began to loom up before me like 


THE LIFE OF DAVID SNOW. 173 


a mountain, and the more I thought about it the larger 
it grew. I had always met my agreement to pay on 
time, and it began to look as though, in this case, I 
should fail so to do. It troubled me very much. I 
‘could not sleep, and was nearly unfitted for business. 
So I thought I would see, in case I should come short 
in my sales and collections to meet the debt on time, if 
I could not borrow for a short time; and each one to 
whom I applied, agreed to loan me one thousand dol- 
lars, until I had the promise of five thousand dollars. 
This put new courage into me, and after the loan was 
thus secured, I set myself about collecting and selling, 
and was able to meet all my bills on time, without any 
help from without. I merely mention this to show 
how highly I valued my word, and how in my own 
estimation my credit stood. 

In connection with my flour and grain business, I was 
the agent of a saw-mill at Lockport, N. Y., which sawed 
white oak ship-plank. I had a depot at East Boston, 
and nearly all of the packets brought a deck-load-of 
ship-plank and timber. The timber was cut in Ohio, 
and came via lake and canal to Lockport. Though I 
was a Boston merchant, I was not above any business 
that I undertook. I used to be on hand when a packet 
arrived, and would manage to make a raft and get it 
into dock myself. I used to sell, mostly, to go to Med- 
ford, then the principal shipbuilding place in New Eng- 
land. Not less than fifteen large ships might be seen 
there on the stocks at one time. 


t 
174 FROM POVERTY TO PLENTY}; OR,. 


Isaac Rich had commenced the fresh fish business in 
Faneuil Market before this time. The Market was built 
in 1825. He followed his business very assiduously, 
and took the lead in that department. He might truly 
be said to have been a ‘‘ fishmonger.” In Shakspeare’s 
play of ‘‘ Hamlet,” a fishmonger—the Prince of Den- 
mark — was considered an honest man, and as one se- 
lected from ten thousand. 

On account of the damp atmosphere of the market, 
Mr. Rich’s health began to fail, and his physician ad- 
vised him to change his business, or consumption might 
take him, as nearly all his children had died of that dis- 
ease. He heeded the advice and took a counting-room 
over the flour store of S. Robinson, City Wharf, to whom. 
he furnished capital, and received part of the profits. 

Our acquaintance, after a few years, ripened into a 

co-partnership. It might not be of sufficient interest to 
narrate all the little incidents connected with the three 
years of trade in the old wooden store, head of City — 
Wharf, under the firm of ‘*‘ David Snow & Co., com- 
mission merchants ;” though during that time several 
- chances offered to take in one and another as co-part- 
ners. At one time a man by the name of Moody came 
very near clinching the nail; but a week of trial satis- 
fied me that there was not quite snap enough in him for 
me; so he fell astern, with others. 

About this time George Hallett, one of the old Bos- 
ton merchants, came into one of the insurance offices 


THE LIFE OF DAVID SNOW. 175 


(he was from the Cape) and said, with some surprise, 
‘«‘ What do you suppose I saw to-day as I was passing 
through Atkinson Street (now Congress Street) ?— 
Isaac Rich, that little fish-dealer, moving into one of 
those new houses (a block just built), with a rental of 
$600.00! What do you suppose we are coming to?” 
That same building, in 1860, commanded $1,800.00; 
indicating the wonderful changes that have taken place. 
Mr. Rich, Gove, Dr.Snowand some others, left Bennet 
Street and Bromfield Street Churches in 1841, for the 
purpose of commencing a meeting in the old Federal 
Street Theatre, which had been occupied for a short 
time by the Congregationalists. Mr: Maffitt there 
preacher. The effort was a failure. Mr. Maffitt for a 
time drew immense crowds; but his election to Con- 
gress as chaplain, scattered the people. On his return 
he attempted to raise funds for the society, by getting 
up a concert. He distributed handbills in all the 
prominent places. I said to him: ‘Is not that quite a 
display for a Methodist Society?” ‘¢ Oh, no, Brother 
Snow,” he replied, ‘‘ people now-a-days have to be 
humbugged, and are not satisfied with anything short of 
this.” The society, failing to build a church on Beach 
Street, returned mainly to Bromfield Street. 
Mr. Maffitt had a peculiar way of doing some things. 
I well remember a scene which I witnessed at Bennet 
Street. Dr. Porter, the pastor, had invited Mr. Maf- 
fitt to assist him in a series of meetings, continuing 


176 FROM POVERTY TO PLENTY; OR, 


about three months. At the close, an effort was made 
to raise five hundred dollars for Mr. Maffitt. The 
boxes were passed, but the money did ‘not come. 
After some further talk about raising the money, and 
matters not moving to suit Mr. Maffitt, he deliber- 
ately walked down the aisle and out of the door, lock- 
ing it as he went out, and passing around the building, 
came in at the other door, locking it after him, and 
walking deliberately up to the altar, said: ‘* Brothers 
and sisters, this money must be raised on the spot. I 
have locked both doors, and no one will go out until it 
is done.” This was cool. There being no way to. get 
out but to pay the money ; it was raised in a short time, 
and we went home. Such a method of raising money 
for such a purpose is to my mind questionable, what- 
ever some may think of it. If the people will not sus- 
tain the gospel, they ought not to have it. 

In 1840 or 1841, I purchased an estate in Charles- 
town, adjoining Bunker Hill monument, for which I 
paid six thousand eight hundred dollars, including floor- 
carpets. It contained sixteen thousand feet of land. 
This and another lot adjoining it formed a square. It 
had a commanding view of Boston and the adjoining 
towns. I thought then I was in clover: a good busi- 
ness and almost a palace to live in. I then, for the first 
time, gave in my name and became a member of the 
High Street M. E. Church, where I remained until 
there was a division, and the Union M. E. Church was 


THE LIFE OF DAVID SNOW. cy Ge | 


organized, and for a time worshipped in City Hall, then 
near by, until we built the brick church on the corner 
of Concord and High Streets, near the monument. 

- When I was first settled in Charlestown, I became 


very much interested in a family by the name of D é 





They had five children, — three sons and two daughters, 
—all of whom were members of the Sabbath-school. I 
think they were the most precocious children I ever 
knew. They bloomed early in life. I took the eldest 
boy at sixteen years of age into my employ as a clerk. 
He was very smart; could do as much work as a man; 
was a fine scholar, a splendid penman, and all one could 
desire in a boy of his age. He was also a member of 
the church and Sunday-school. If a valedictory was 
to be spoken, he was the boy-selected to do it. But he 
possessed elements of character, which, if not changed, 
would lead any young man to ruin. He early acquired 
the habit of using tobacco, and then, as is usually the 
case, associated with it drinking, and at times was so 
under the influence of liquor as to be incapacitated for 
business ; and then to meet his expenses would over- 
_ draw his account. But I bore with him for some time, 
and again loaned him money to make good his cash, as 
_ he was my book keeper, and had charge of my bank 
account. He remained with me some years, however, 
and when I took into partnership Isaac Rich, he was 
our book-keeper until we dissolved; and then I made 
him a present of five hundred dollars, as I found he had 


178 FROM POVERTY TO PLENTY; OR, 7 
spent his salary, which for years had been one thousand ~ : 
dollars per year. Another clerk in our employ who 
had the same salary during our co-partnership, had sayed 
over five thousand dollars. After our dissolution, Mr. 
Rich took him into partnership, with other clerks, and 
allowed him one-eighth of the profits, and in eight years 
his part of the profits was thirty-two thousand dollars. 
He was married, lived in good style, owned a house in 
C , kept a horse and carriage, and I thought he had 
got command of his appetite; but not so. Suecess in 
business proved his ruin. He dissolved with Mr. Rich, 
set up in business for himself, and in two years lost all 
and failed. He went into clerkship, but his old habits 
got the advantage of him again, and he became poor 





indeed, and came to me for help. 

At one time he rose gradually in political life. He 
was president of the council board in C——, and might 
have been mayor if he had not allowed his appetite to 
rule him. One thing I wish to mention as a warning 
to parents. While he was paying attention to the lady 
who afterwards became his first wife, her father, who 
was an Englishman, used to treat him to porter, which 
aided to increase his appetite for something stronger ; 
and he lived to see his folly in so doing. 

He was a fine-looking young man, possessing very 
social and gentlemanly manners; the best of book- 
keepers, quick and correct —could do the work of al- 
most any two men I ever saw; and yet such noble en- 


THE LIFE OF DAVID SNOW. 179 


dowments were all subordinated to the beastly habits 
of rum and tobacco. I sincerely desire that those who 
read this account of one of Nature’s noblemen, will take 
_ warning and flee from such appetites as a bird would 
flee from the fowler. How my poor heart has ached 
when I have thought of him. It is with pleasure that 
Ihave learned of late of his reformation; that he has 
turned to sobriety and to his church relations. May he 
live to honor society and bless his family. 

When I had been living in Garden Court Street some 
two years, I went to Father Taylor’s meeting, which 
was near by. I attended there until I went to Charles- 
town. My business increased, and so did my profits ; 
and in 1840, I found myself worth $23,835. Still I 
kept my expenses down. I was not like too many, 
who, when they do well one year, think it will always 
be so, and branch out into the extravagances of the day. 
There was an element in me which, when I was making 
_ money fast, somehow made me more prudent, and less 
inclined to be extravagant. My wife would frequently 
say that such and- such families did so and so, —had 
such and such furniture, —and why could not we do 
the same. But I said no; I could not steer my ship 
by my neighbor’s, but by my own compass. I never al- 
lowed myself to live above what I thought I could af- 
ford, whether others did so or not. In 1841, I was 
worth $29,618.00; in 1842, $35,565.00; and in 1843, 
$38,854.00. So any one may see that I was on the > 


180 FROM POVERTY TO PLENTY; OR, 


upward grade. Business with me, I acknowledge, was 
the all-absorbing thought. I always laid out my work 
in the morning or evening, so that when I came to the 
store I was ready for action. I was usually at my store 
as early as six in the morning (it took but fifteen min- 
utes’ travel when I resided at Charlestown), and home 
at night by eight or nine o’clock. I allowed no one to 
be ahead of me at my store, not even the clerks. 

I attended meeting at the Bethel for some time after 
I moved to Charlestown. Father Taylor, as we called 


him, was a very peculiar man. He had the faculty of 


drawing people to him. He could be the lion or the 
lamb, as his interest dictated. I studied him closely ; 
and, though he would at times abuse some of his breth- 
ren shamefully, yet he never tried it on me. At one 
time I remember his harsh treatment of one of his prom- 
inent men, and I was so affected by it (for I thought 
he was a good man), that I called at his house to ex- 
postulate with him on his conduct. The only thing he 
had against the brother was, that he was anti-slavery, 
and Father Taylor was pro-slavery. - At that time the 
New England churches were about equally divided — 
some for slavery and some against it. Father Taylor 
was born in Virginia, and had the idea, like other Vir- 
ginians, that slavery was a Divine institution. I plead 
for the brother with all my heart, but such was his aus- 
tere manner and conduct in that case, that I actually 
wept before him. Still he would not give way, so the 


THE LIFE OF DAVID SNOW. 181 


brother left and went to Bennet Street, from whence 
he came. Father Taylor was a man of very strong 
feelings, and had great influence over the seamen, the 
worshippers at the Bethel. He commenced his minis- 
try with the sailors at Methodist Alley. He used to 
hold meetings on board vessels, and drew crowds to 
hear him. He was blessed with powerful lungs, but 
abused them so that in after years his voice failed him. 

He was a wonderful man in many respects, but pos- 
sessed no executive ability. His wife was the financial 
agent of the house. For a more detailed account of 
him, read his life, written by Bishop Haven. 

I had now been in Boston about nine years; had a 
very fine residence in Charlestown; had sold my house 
in Boston for a little less than it cost; I was well estab- 
lished in business, with capital enough for the business 
I was doing. By dint of industry I had established 
my credit, so that I could buy at the lowest -market 
price. I worked myself and made all my help work, 
even my clerks, if necessary. I allowed no idler in my 
employ, and lived to see most of those who had been 
my partners, and others who desired to be, drop off to 
the leeward, as previously mentioned. 

_ Here closes an important period in my business rela- 
tions, and the entrance upon the most successful co- 
partnership of my life. 

16 


Deas! 


CHAPTER XI. 


SNOW AND RICH. 


‘*For gold the merchant ploughs the main.” 
— Burns. 


if SHALL, in this chapter, give some account of my 

relations with the late Isaac Rich. At the time of 
which I write, Mr. Rich had left the market, and was in 
company with S. Robinson, a‘flour dealer; but he still 
continued to carry on the wholesale fish business, chiefly 


in mackerel and alewives, shipping largely to Strout & — 


Brothers, Philadelphia. Though he was in the flour 
business, the fish business was more to his mind and 
taste. My business was mainly flour and fish. Mr. 
Rich knew but very little outside of the fish trade. In 
that he was at home, and usually led off. He frequent- 
ly showed me his account of sales from Strout & Brothers. 
The amount of profits was to me quite tempting. 

After comparing notes we concluded, as the fishermen 
say, to ‘* throw together.” I knew him to be a prac- 


tical man, and that he had made, according to his own 
182 


THE LIFE OF DAVID SNOW. ~- 183 


statement, some forty thousand dollars. I was worth 
at this time only thirty-five thousand. In view of all 
the circumstances, the idea of connecting the fishing 
trade with flour and grain struck us both as likely to 
work well. Though Mr. Rich had no advantages of the 
schools, and could never write his own letters, yet I dis- 
covered in him elements that constituted a good, safe 
business man, confident in his own ability in whatever 
he undertook. We had been together considerably at 
camp-meetings and other places, as well as in the church 
at old Bennet Street, and we were pretty well posted in 
regard to nearly all the fishermen on the Cape. 

After considerable preliminary talk, we formed a co- 
partnership in 1843, under the name of Snow & Rich, 
which firm, in a few years, became extensively known 
throughout the United States. We became the centre 
and circumference of the fish trade. In our articles of 
agreement, each was to furnish twenty-five thousand 
dollars, making our net capital fifty thousand, which in 
those days would be equal to one hundred thousand dol- 
lars in 1870, as fish and flour were selling at one-half 
the price of to-day. 

_At the age of twenty-one, young Paddock, my first 
clerk, left me, and he and his brother set up in the same 
business which I had formerly carried on. I loaned 
him one thousand dollars to start with. His brother 
had as much more; and though they were smart, likely 
men, they did not succeed. One of them died soon 


184 FROM POVERTY TO PLENTY}; OR, 


after, and the other moved to California, and is there 
now, so far as I know. t 

The first year that Snow & Rich were in business, the 
fish trade was at a low ebb. The year previous there 
was an over-catch, and markets fell one-half in price, 
and most of the small dealers failed, and everybody 
seemed afraid to touch a codfish. In the Fall of 1843, 
there were some fifty thousand quintals of splendid cod-, 
fish on hand, in Marblehead and Beverly, the great fish 
depots in those days, ready for market. ‘There werea 
large class of coasters, or small vessels, running between 
Boston and New York, which would haul up into Coen- 
ties Slip, in the latter city, and retail cargoes of fish. 
No one dealing in fish, in New York, thought of taking 
fish into their store, as now, but would deliver from the 
vessels as their orders came in; and when the vessels 
sold out, they would purchase a carge of flour and grain 
and come to Boston and other adjoining places and re- 
tail it out, as they did their fish in New York. But we 
thought something might be done to change this trade, 
so we sent a man to Marblehead and Beverly and 
swept the market of codfish — buying some forty thous- 
and quintals at one time, at about one dollar and fifty 
cents per quintal. This produced a wonderful stir 
among the fish dealers. Some thought we were erazy, 
_ sure. One old dealer asked me one day what we were 
going to do with so many fish. I said, ‘* Sell them.” 
He replied, that we never could sell them in the world; 


THE LIFE OF DAVID SNOW. 185 


and no doubt he thought so, for such a lot was never in 
the market before nor since. This purchase of Snow & 
Rich revolutionized the fish trade, both here and in New 
York, as we anticipated. There are times in trade, as 
in nature, when things become dull and stagnant, and 
it requires a tremendous storm to produce a change. 

Soon after Rich and I had commenced business, we 
both agreed, that if we failed, and had to go back to our 
old calling, — he to the fish market and I to the bake- 
house, — in either case, which ever business proved the 
best to support our families, we would share equally in 
it; if he, for instance, went to selling fresh fish, I 

should have a chance with him, if I so desired; and if 
I went to baking I should allow him an interest with 

-me, if he preferred baking, driving on a route, and 
selling crackers, to selling fish. So, as it may be seen, 
we made our plans on the safe side, as we thought; for 
we knew about what the old business would do, but the 
new enterprise was uncertain. In this we were each 
looking well to the windward. 

Not unfrequently, while I resided in Charlestown, I 
would saddle my horse and ride over to Boston, can- 
vass every wharf where fish were landed, and get post- 
ed up as to the market, return home to breakfast, and 
be back to business by the time others arrived, and in 
this way I was ahead of them, and made my plans ac- 
cordingly. I learned that an hour in the early morning 
was better that two in any other part of the day. 


186 FROM POVERTY TO, PLENTY; OR, 


After I had been in Charlestown about three years, 
I purchased the adjoining estate to mine, for eight thou- 
sand seven hundred dollars. This made me owner of — 
three-fourths of an acre of land, forming a square of 
thirty-four thousand feet, at the head of Cordis Street. — 
I thought then I had the best location for a residence in 
New England. The same lot is now covered-by four- 
teen brick houses. Of course there was much which 
transpired during the first six years of my residence in— 
Charlestown. Our eldest daughter, Sarah, died. I 
had formed a co-partnership with Isdac Rich; and the 
first year, when not’a few thought we were crazy and 
would ‘*‘ burst up,” we divided a net profit of thirty-six 
thousand dollars. This settled the matter with us that 
we had made no mistake on the start. Snow & Rich 
soon became the head and leaders in the fish trade over 
all the country. As our business increased, our capital 
increased, and Mr. Rich thought that we had better en- 
gage in navigation. He owned.a small part of a ship ~ 
with a Captain Wise, who wanted us, or some one, to 
build him a new ship; and coming to Rich, he made 
out a good case. He said his friend at Mobile would 
take one-quarter, and if Snow & Rich would take the — 
balance, they could manage her; which they consented 
to do. This was the commencement of our interest in 
navigation. * 

Mr. Rich was naturally a far-seeing, industrious man. — 
In this he had few equals. As an illustration of his 





THE LIFE OF DAVID SNOW. 187 


character in this respect, the night on which he was mar- 
ried the market was nearly destitute of fish, and several 
vessels were expected every moment. At about twelve 
_ o'clock he was called up by the report that a vessel had 
Just-arrived, loaded with fish. He got up and went 
down to T Wharf, bought the entire cargo, and re- 
turned home to his waiting bride, and they, no doubt, 
rejoiced over the successful purchase. A new wife did 
not interfere with the purchase of fish, so long as there 
was money in it. On the following morning the fisher- 
-men did not start as early as formerly to lay in their 
stock of fish, not expecting any opposition from Rich, 
and thinking he would not arise as early as usual; but, 
_ jadge of their surprise, when, in the morning, quite ear- 
_ ly, Rich was on hand at his stand, well stocked with fish, 
and they had to purchase their supply of him for that 
day. An old fish-dealer told me that the profits of that 
cargo of fish exceeded all the expenses of the wedding ; 
as it was not the fashion in those days as now, to spend 
a month on a wedding tour. With such industry and 
economy what could keep a man poor. The question 
has often been asked, how Rich became so wealthy. If 
| you study the history of all rich men, who are self- 
made, you will find they started on the basis of strict 
economy, and worked their way up to position and 
wealth. 
After we built the ship ‘‘ Chasca,” for Capt. Wise, we 
built the «¢ Anna Rich,” named after Rich’s oldest daugh- 


188 FROM POVERTY TO PLENTY}; OR, 







ter. Capt. Burwell commanded her. We then bui 
the barque ‘‘ Sarah Snow,” then the ‘‘ Susan Hinks,” 
and, finally, the ‘* Storm King,” of fourteen hundred 
tons. As our business increased, and our profits were 
not less than thirty thousand to fifty thousand dollars 
per annum, we bought Constitution Wharf, for which 
we paid one hundred and sixty-eight thousand dollars, 
— fifty thousand down. We then wrote to a merchant 
in New York, who broke down on the mackerel joint- 
account operation, asking if he could help us in this 
payment. His reply was, ‘‘ Yes, draw for ten thous- 
and or twenty thousand dollars, as I suppose you 
will yet own all Boston.” This caused quite a laugh; 
even the thought that two fatherless boys were des- 
tined to own all Boston, or that the merchant in New 
York should entertain such sanguine expectations, 
though we had from the first produced a profound 
sensation among the fish-dealers in New York. | 
Mr. Rich and myself were not exactly alike in tem- 
perament; still, by yielding one to the other, we 
remained together eleven years. He was of a ner- 
vous sanguine temperament. He possessed an ele- 
ment I never could endorse. He seemed to make 
people like him, and make them feel at times as though 
he was their best friend, and still could use them as 
his interests seemed to demand, without, apparently, 
any compunctions of conscience. He was passionate 
at times, and would say pretty hard things even to me, 


. 


THE LIFE OF DAVID SNOW. 189 


but I seldom took fire at the moment, and before I be- 
came really settled in my mind what to say in answer, 
he would come and take back all, and would manifest 
so much regret for what he had said, that I would let it 
all go and think no more about it. 

He was out-spoken, and at times would go beyond 
what he really meant. Whenever he got into a bad fix 
in a trade, he would manage to make me shoulder a part, 
or the whole, and at times used me as the monkey did 
the cat, to pull the chestnuts out of the fire. At one 
time, he and others bought a lot of land on the corner 
of Harrison Avenue and Beach Street, for a church. 
He, with Messrs. Gove and Gale, were a committee to 
make the first payment. But neither of the others 

had any money, though it was understood that the 
committee were to furnish one-third each. So they 
proposed to raise it on a joint-note. To this Rich 
would not consent. The lot was bought, and Rich was 
bound in some way to pay the advance, according to 
agreement, and as the others had-backed out, the load 
came on him. In this state of things the church was 
willing to abandon the whole thing. Rich came to me 
and urged me to buy the lot on speculation; thought 
we could make money on it, though I did not think so. 
- But out of sympathy for him, he being my partner, and 
to get him out of the difficulty, I consented, and we 
paid twenty-five thousand dollars for the land. We 
held it for one year, and then sold it for one thous- 


be 


190 FROM POVERTY TO PLENTY; OR, 


and dollars and interest over cost, to one Baker, who 


built the present church, which was owned and used by 
the Unitarians. Rich was venturesome at times, even 
more so than I was; but he hardly ever made a mistake. 
It would somehow come out all right. ‘It is always 
said that in a concern some one must bear what- 


ever is unpopular in it, and Rich had the faculty to get 
that on me. I would give way to him when I knew I 


was right, rather than have contention. Mr. Rich was 
usually the purchaser, though he would always consult 
me, and after we had agreed not to buy any more 
mackerel, he would go into the market and purchase 


every barrel afloat. He used to make me very unpop- 
ular with the fisherman, in this way: At times the docks 


would be full of fish, and no buyers; all seemed to wait 
for Snow & Rich to move. The fisherman would lounge 





around and seek an offer. Rich would say, he was : 


willing to buy, but Snow was not: and also, when he 
bought, he would say he was willing to pay them more, 
but his partner would not allow him to do it. But this 
was all gammon, and yet it did work for our joint in- 
terest. This is what I never could do. I was too 
honest and open to mislead or to deceive any one in 
that way. If I really thought we ought not to buy, I 
would say so; and if urged so to do, I went against 
my judgment; but I never could say I did not want to 
buy when I really did, though I have known men who 
would violate their conscience in this partteular and 


: 
| 
: 
: 
: 
: 
: 


THE LIFE OF DAVID SNOW. 191 


think but little of it, and even regard it all right, if 
they made money by it. Rich had educated himself to 
look after both ends of his business, and could never 
trust any one to do any part of it without he was con- 
sulted; and would find fault with it unless he had a ~ 
hand in it. There are peculiarities in most representa- 
tive men. Some men make it a point to be popular. 
I have questioned whether it was possible for a man to 
be popular, and, at the same time, be strictly honest. 
_ A real partizan politician cannot, in my judgment, be 
open-hearted and give to the public his real sentiments ; 
these he will keep in the background, and be non-com- 
mittal; take the popular side as his interest may lead. 
~ My experience for twenty years has taught me this les- 
son. I have been brought into contact with men who, 
when they have reached a point by whatever course 
their interest may have suggested, will then show their 
true character. I do not claim for myself any great 
merit for my conduct, but one thing I could never do, 
— practice deception to make one feel that I was his 
friend, and bide my time to pierce him to the very 
vitals. I know it is said that it is wisdom to hold 
your tongue; but mine, somehow, will move; and at 
times, I have no doubt, to my disadvantage. A mer- 
chant said to me one day, ‘‘ Snow, you lack policy.” 
I said, «‘ If by policy you mean deception or double- 
dealing, I am glad of it.” Though it may be human 
nature to do so, it is human nature in its lowest form; ~ 


192 FROM POVERTY TO PLENTY; OR, 


and I had far rather be called a little rough in my ex- 


pressions than to cover up my real sentiments for the — 


sake of being popular. It is, and ever has been, my 
way, to turn out in the end better than people expect. 
Some men study human diplomacy instead of human 
nature, that they may take advantage of other men’s 
mistakes. Selfishness is a tremendous power, even 
among men who call themselves Christians. Some will 
pretend to be friends to everybody, but in fact to no one 
in particular. They willsay yes or no, just as others 
may desire. I never could do that. A dear friend 
came to me once, and asked me to advocate a popular 
question. I said, ‘‘ No, I cannot do it; I must have 
my conscience approve of what I do.” 

Snow & Rich were ordinarily successful in all their 
operations ; probably no two men were more so. Both 


: 


were good salesmen, and both good buyers. Our sales — 


averaged over a million per annum; and during all the © 


time we were together we never lost, in bad debts, — 


over ten thousand dollars. 


_ After a few years we were able to pay the balance on ~ 


Constitution Wharf, and built a brick store at the head 
of the wharf fronting Commercial Street, the very place 
where the frigate ‘‘ Constitution” was built. In dig- 
ging the cellar, we dug up some of the timber on which 
she was built, and had it made into canes. Her bow- 
sprit extended across the street ; and it is said that the 
night previous to her being launched, the master builder, 


/ 


THE LIFE OF DAVID SNOW. 193 


who lived on the opposite side of the street, was much 
excited; and all night in his sleep he was launching 
her; and towards morning, placing his feet against his 
wife, began, as he thought, to launch her, and sang out, 
at the top of his voice, ‘‘ There goes !” and his wife found 
herself on the floor, and he greatly surprised on awak- 
ing to find the ship still on the stocks, and his wife 
launched out of bed. 

When we commenced business I lived in Charlestown, 
and owned a horse and chaise; and as our store was on 
City Wharf, and our fish were on Harris’s Wharf, where 
we packed our mackerel vessels, Rich used to borrow 
my horse to go back and forth, nearly a mile; and at 
last he said I had better put it into the concern, as he 
lived in Brookline. I judged it not best for two fami- 
lies to own the same horse and carriage, and said to 
him that he had better buy himself a horse and carriage, 
-as his family would want to ride occasionally. His re- 
ply was: ‘‘It would not look well for both of us to 
own a horse.” This was good common sense, though 
he allowed me, for a year, to pay the bills on my horse, 
and he used it as much asI did. But at last he bought 
_ him a horse, and afterwards he bought another, and 
still another, and so on until he had at times three or 
four, and a number of carriages. But I never owned 
but one horse at a time. I mention this to show how 
some people change with their circumstances, and allow 


their expenses to increase. Mr. Rich had less feeling 
7 


194 FROM POVERTY TO PLENTY; OR, 4 


for the happiness of others than many; selfishness 
seemed largely to predominate. He was naturally 
headstrong and positive m matters of business; rather 
dogmatical than otherwise. He had sense enough to 
see the right, but not always goodness of heart enough 
to regard it, especially if it came in conflict with his 
own plans and interests. His last will and testament 
was a true specimen of his character, which all may 
read for themselves. He was self-made and self-edu- 
cated. Nobody could do exactly as he could and 
did, and therefore he was fretful and fault-finding, a 
thing I never could endure, when applied to me, as I 
always did all that any one was under obligation to do, 
—I was never lazy. 

After we had been together some nine years, and he 
had lost, by death, all his children, and finding that he 
grew more and more fretful, I judged it best, under all 
the circumstances, to dissolve the co-partnership. We 
agreed to do so at the end of two years. We had then 
accumulated about two hundred and fifty thousand 
dollars each. I had four children, and he seemed to be 
envious of me, and did not manifest any interest in my 
helping them, but rather the reverse, and I came to 
the conclusion that it was best for me to do my own 
business, and my children’s, who were then at an age 
to require some help from their father. The eldest was 
married, and another looking in that direction. We 
had built a brick store at the head of Constitution 





: 
: 


THE LIFE OF DAVID SNOW. 195 


Wharf, and moved all our business there. We had be- 
come the owners of some two hundred thousand feet 
of wharf property, some five or six ships, ran a line 
of packets to New Orleans, and had become extensively 
known in the country, and in foreign parts, through our 
ships, as they went to all parts of the world. We had 
four clerks, all of whom were very competent men. 

I pass over here many particulars which might come 
into this history. Finally, we came to the end of our 
co-partnership. We then owned Constitution Wharf, 
worth two hundred thousand dollars, all paid for; one 
hundred thousand dollars in shipping ; a large stock of 
goods, such as mackerel, codfish, etc., on hand. To 
divide all this equitably was my desire. I said to Mr. 
Rich one day, that I would like to do by him as if he 
was my own brother. I was honest in that expression, 
and it became necessary for some one to name a price 
to buy or sell. 

The laboring part usually fellon me. Though Rich 
was cunning and foxy in his movements, he ever had 
the utmost confidence in me. As an example: Just 
before we dissolved he was home—sick, but had partly 
purchased a quantity of fish, and sent in word for me 
to finish the trade. It was a poor trade, and under all 
circumstances we did not want the fish; but he had 
commenced, and I had to consummate it. The fish were 
green, and warm weather coming on, they had to be 
dried over; in this I did the best I could. And know- 


’ 


196 FROM POVERTY TO PLENTY; OR, 


ing that these fish would be in the way, as he did not 
want them, he shipped them to St. Domingo, and in 
our division he took the consignment at fifty per cent. 
on the dollar, thereby making me lose one-half of his — 
own purchase. Other instances might be named. 

The time came to divide our stock of fish on hand, 
which amounted to fifty thousand dollars. I asked 
him to set a price. He declined, and insisted that I 
must do it, and he would either buy or sell. _He was 
expecting all the time to continue in the same business. 
If he could only manage me, he had agreed with all our 
clerks to take them in with him, and allow them each 
one-eighth of the profits. All readily assented but one. 
He went, also, to Philadelphia and New York, on the 
sly, and made arrangements with all our old business 
firms to do about as they had done, while I was lying 
on my oars, not knowing how the matter would end, 
except that we were to dissolve. 

Now came the tug of war. Failing to get him com- 
mitted in any possible way, and determined to wind up 
the old concern, I had to make a-price for the old stock 
in trade, without any consideration for so doing. Be- 
sides, he had all the clerks on his side. But I said, it 
must be done, and done it was. I took an imventory 
of all the stock I could find. Some was not in sight, 
and was not discovered until some time afterwards. I 
had to give him his choice to take it or not. He meant 
to take it, and I knew it; yet he seemed a little afraid 


THE LIFE OF DAVID SNOW. 197 


of the responsibility. My terms were, that he who 
took the stock should have the good will of the concern, 
and the other should not engage in the same business 
for one year. He admitted I had set him a fair price 
on each article, but still he could not decide, and took 
it home to consult his wife. I knew that was a mere 
pretence to gain time, as the thing was settled in his 
own mind. But he was afraid of me, and yet I was 
free and open-hearted with him at all times. 

A circumstance took place a short time before we dis- 
solved that made me feel badly. A new general in- 
spector of fish was to be appointed; and as we were 
the leading men in that business, the applicants all 
came to us to sign their petitions. Mr. Rich said to me 
one day, ‘‘ Mr. Snow, I think we better not sign any 
one’s petition, if we do We shall make enemies of the 
rest.” I said, ‘‘ Well, just as you think best;” and 
we agreed not to sign any_ petitions. And though I 
was urged daily to do so, yet my hands were tied. I 
thought the matter settled, until one day one of the 
‘petitioners came to me and said: ‘‘ I thought you would 
not sign any petition.” Isaid,‘‘Yes.” ‘* Well,” said he, 
‘your partner did, and Mr. Paine has got the appoint- 
ment.” Isaid nothing. Soon after, a Mr. I. W. Low, 
who had been to us time and again to sign a petition 
for a friend of his at Gloucester, and had been refused, 
came into the store, and walking up to Mr. Rich, said: 
**I learn you signed Paine’s petition.” <‘‘ Well,” said 


198 FROM POVERTY TO PLENTY; OR, 


Mr. Rich, ‘‘ you did not believe it, did you?” and be- 
fore Mr. Low could reply, turned the conversation to 
another subject, and engaged him to buy a lot of 
mackerel at Gloucester. I was sitting by and said to 
myself, ‘‘ That was well done.” Mr. Low was no 
wiser than when he came, and a little commission on a 
lot of mackerel threw him off the track. But I began 
to see through it. Mr. Rich wanted a man as general 
inspector that would be under obligation to him, and 
that was the only way to secure it. 

After Snow & Rich were well settled in business, one 
thing took place which I never forget. Mr. Rich pos- 
sessed one faculty which but few possess. He could 
make one feel that he was his very best friend, and that 
he was going to do something for him that would be 
for his interest, when in fact his object was to carry a 
point by which his own interests would be promoted. 
I had evidence of this on several occasions. Our credit 
as a business concern was beyond question. One day 
Mr. Rich said to me that he thought it would be to ra 
interest to get up anew bank. I thought differently? 
But he made me believe that it was mainly for my bene- 
fit, as I was the financial partner, doing all the bank 
business. I replied that we could dictate our own 
terms at the banks, and if we established a new bank, 
we must abide by the rules we made; and, as we dealt 
largely in exchange, I thought it not for our interest to 
be tied to any one bank. But after several talks upon 


THE LIFE OF DAVID SNOW. 199 


the subject, finding that his heart seemed set upon it, 
I gave way (for he was not the man to give up an en- 
terprise which he had started), and I acted with him. 
Nothing was settled between us as to who should go 
into the direction, only he would frequently say it was 
my place, and that he wanted me to be one of the direc- 
tors. So we subscribed ten thousand dollars, and used 
all our influence to get subscribers ; and we secured about 
twenty thousand dollars additional. It was not so easy 
a matter then as now to get up a bank of five hundred 
thousand dollars. It was really hard work to get the - 
stock all subscribed. I was chairman of the committee 
to petition the legislature for a charter. We fixed upon 
a name, — ‘**‘ The Bank of North America,” — and se- 
cured our charter, and a Mr. Sturdevant was selected 
as our president, who agreed to take one hundred thou- 
sand dollars, the amount to be paid down. He was 
the most notorious smoker I ever knew. He got up 
with a cigar in his mouth and went to bed in the same 
way. It made me sick to be inhis counting-room. But 
before our organization was completed we thought he 
was not just the man to be president of a bank. But 
-how to get rid of him was the question. He was large- 
ly engaged in the coal business, and was much of his 
time in Philadelphia.. Money was tight at the time, 
and I did not believe he could take one hundred thous- 
and dollars of stock and pay for it. So, after several 
meetings, I was appointed a committee to write to him 


, Pl 
‘ . 4 
, ae 
, 
‘ 


200 FROM POVERTY TO PLENTY; OR,” 


with a view of inducing him to give up the place, which — 


we had determined to give him on account of the large 


amount of stock he proposed to take. I did-so; and © 


wrote him, saying that the members who had been se- 
lected as directors had decided to organize, and hoped 
he would be ready to pay his one hundred thousand 
dollars ; and intimated, also, that if he was not ready to 
do so, to notify us that we might fix on some other man. 
This brought the subject right home, and he, seeing the 
drift of the letter, replied, that if we were determined 
to push things, we might count him out. We did so, 
and fixed on Hon. George Crockett to take his place. 
The understanding among all was, that one of our firm 
was to be one of the directors. I was quite indifferent 
as to myself, as I did not care to be one, but preferred 
that Mr. Rich should take the place.. When we per- 
sonally talked over the matter, he insisted that I should 


be the director, saying, that it more properly belonged ~ 


to me, as I had charge of the correspondence, and did 
the bank business. So to meet-his oft-expressed wishes 
I consented to do as he desired; and I thought he 
meant what he said. The substituting of Crockett, 
who took only ten thousand dollars, for Sturdevant, 
who was to have taken one hundred thousand dollars, 
left us some ninety thousand dollars to be provided for, 
which was quite a tax. At a meeting just before we 
organized, Mr. Rich being present, each one who had 
been selected as director took ten thousand dollars 


THE LIFE OF DAVID SNOW. 201 


in addition to what he had taken, and Rich put down 
ten thousand dollars to Snow & Rich, without my con- 
sent ; and his name was put upon the list for director. 

When the day came to meet and organize, I said to 
him that the one who was to be director should attend 
the meeting. He said I had better go. I asked him 
if it was settled as to which of us should be director. 
He said, ‘‘ No.” So to carry out his often-expressed 
wish, I attended the meeting; and being the chairman 
of the committee, it devolved on me to call the meet- 
ing to order, and appoint a committee to collect and 
count the votes for directors. And what was my sur- 
prise when they handed me a vote with Isaac Rich’s 

name printed on it. I stepped up to one and asked by 
- what authority Mr. Rich’s name was on the ticket.. He 
said by Mr. Rich’s request. This was a very unex- 
pected blow to me, as it was an office from the start 
which I did not desire; and to be sent to the meeting 
to organize the bank under these circumstances was a 
direct insult, and I so considered it, as well as others 
present. 

I got through with the organization as well as I 
- could, and with a burdened heart at the game Rich 
had played on me without any cause whatever, I went 
to the store. Mr. Rich was at the wharf, and I went 
immediatcly to find him, and plainly told him that he 
had served me the meanest trick I ever had played on 
me, coming as it did from my own partner; that I did 


202 FROM POVERTY TO PLENTY; OR, 


not understand why and for what cause he had done so. 


_ 


I took the subscription from my pocket and showed 
him the ten thousand dollars he had subseribed without 
my consent, and erased it, and left him to his own reflec- 
tions, and went home. But my nervous system had been 
so wrought upon, I could not sleep during the night. 
This act of double-dealing would keep before me, and 
I kept asking myself why he did it, when I was frank 
and open, and proferred all along that he should be one 
of the directors if he desired. The motive he had for 
so doing I never could understand. 

Since then I have become more acquainted with men, 
and have discovered that some men by double-dealing 
carry their point; but I thank God I never was such 
an enemy to any one; and though somewhat selfish, I 
confess, I could never make others a stepping-stone to 
my advancement. I told him the next morning I had 
not slept any during the night on account of it. He 
said but little. The day after, he came to me and said 
that he had done wrong, and that he would resign and 
I should be elected in his place. I said, no, I would 
not accept. He had sought and obtained it in an 
underhand manner, and I would not make his place 
good. After some talk, he said that he would only 
serve one year, and then he would make a place for me. 
I made no reply. At the end of the year the directors 
had become acquainted with the whole transaction, and 
wrote me a long letter, acquitting themselves of all - 


“THE LIFE OF DAVID SNOW. 203 


blame, and saying that the whole thing was owing to 
Mr. Rich. And when the time came to elect a new 
board, they asked Mr. Rich whose name they should 
put on the ticket, and he was silent and would not say 
which ; but as they understood how matters were, they 
dropped him and put my name on the ticket, and for 
this act Rich became the life-long enemy of those who 
moved in the matter; and as soon as we dissolved, he 
took his account to another bank, and thus ended the 
bank affair. But to show that I had no feeling in the 
matter, afterwards, when the Webster Bank was started, 
I took ten thousand dollars of its stock, and offered to 
use my influence to make him a director, but did not 
succeed. 

One reason why I was so anxious to dissolve with 
Rich was, as he grew old he became very nervous, and 
the elements that were in him naturally became more 
and more strong, and it seemed at times as theugh noth- 
_ ing was done right unless he was consulted, or had a 
‘hand in the trade. And we had arrived at a point in 
which either of us could live without much labor, if we 
desired. What added to his fretfulness, no doubt, was 
that he had lost all his children, and there was nothing 
to take their place but business; and he was unhappy 
unless his mind was occupied in it. 

The business which we had built up fopather Was a 
fortune to any one who was to'succeed us. We had a 
young man in our employ who had been with us for 


‘ 


204 FROM POVERTY TO PLENTY; OR, P 


several years. He was from the Cape, a relative of 
mine by marriage. He was a very precocious young 
man; rather in advance of his years. He was our out- 
door clerk,.to buy and sell when we were engaged else- 
where; and he became posted in all our movements, 

and was naturally a business man, and bid fare to be a_ 
leading, representative man. He was about twenty- 

two years old, just married, and had saved from his 

salary about twelve hundred dollars, and was ambitious 

to go into business. My partner had made up his mind 

to take into his new concern all the old clerks, and 

to allow them one-eighth each of the profits, taking 

one-half for himself. | 

But this young man thought he was worth more than 

the in-door clerks; which in fact was the case. Mr. | 
Rich could not well make any difference and have har- 
mony with the others. But this man was just the one 
he wanted, and was really worth more to him than any 
other two men he had; for a good accountant can al- 
ways be secured, but a good salesman is not so readily 
obtained. The young man came to me for advice, and 
I gave him such as I considered would be for his inter- 
est. I said to him frequently (as I saw he wanted to 
go into business, and that if he went with Mr. Rich he 
could only have a share with the other clerks), that — 
Mr. Rich had capital and position, and would take the 
lead in the fish trade, and would be a hard customer 
for competition, and if possible he had better go in 


THE LIFE OF DAVID SNOW. = tee DOE 


with him. I had no motive in all this. I was not 
looking to any interest of my own, therefore I advised 
him as I did. 

Just before this, and for some three months, my 
partner had said to me frequently, that if we dissolved, 
- I had better take the wharf and the ships, and he would 
take the personal property and the money, as he should 
require all of his share of the assets to carry on the 
business. And believing he meant what he said, I was 
acting accordingly, and was looking at matters, to see 
what disposition I should make of the ships and wharf. 
It looked reasonable to me that if he carried on the 
same business he would require all the capital he had, 
and therefore I was casting up in my mind how to man- 
age the ships. We had several experienced captains, 
and as usual, each one was expecting now and then a 
new ship. And supposing Rich meant all he said, I 
acted accordingly. But before we really got to the divi- 
sion of our assets, the making up of the new co-part- 
nership on Mr. Rich’s side came up, and things re- 
mained for a time unsettled. 

Though Mr. Rich was smart, as the world calls it, he 
was a little /eaky ; and, notwithstanding all he said to me, 
he was at work with one of our most popular masters, 
securing him to his interest by the promise of building 
him a new ship. Then, to secure the young man, as he 
found he must have an out-door partner in the new 


concern, he took him to his boarding-house one even- 
18 


206 FROM POVERTY TO PLENTY; OR, 





ing, and failing to get his consent to be one of the new 
firm on the same basis, he promised that he would allow } 
him something out of his own share, though nothing 
definite. He made also a dishonorable proposition to 
him, as I thought. The young man, asa townsman of 
mine, made me a confidant in all Mr. Rich’s proposi- 
tions, and said to me the next morning: ‘* Well, what 
do you suppose Mr. Rich has proposed tome?” I said, 
‘“‘T do not know; what is it?” —** He says if I will 
come in on the same basis as the others (for he could 
not allow me any better pay than the others without — 
making trouble), we could buy all the old assets of 
Snow & Rich, at our own price, for there is no other 
firm that could buy them, and it would make no differ- 
ence to him, as he owned one half now, and the new 
concern would get all the benefit.” I said, ‘‘Is that 
so?” — ** Yes.” — ‘* Well, I am sorry,” I replied, ‘* that 

a man with whom I have been in business for eleven 
years, a member of the same church (this young man 
was a member of the Congregational church, and soon 
after one of its deacons), ‘‘ should make such.a proposi-- 
tion to one of our clerks ;” as it looked to me like a bid 
to combine to rob me. When this came to me, I said, 
‘¢ Well, if that is to be Mr. Rich’s course, I must be on 
my guard.” I then said to the young man, that if he 
failed to make satisfactory arrangements with the new 
concern, and still adhered to his former desire, and 
would like to go into business, I would loan him twen- 


THE LIFE OF DAVID SNOW. 207 


ty-five thousand dollars to start with. This produced 
such a change in his mind, that Mr. Rich failed in all 
his propositions to him. 

During all this, I said nothing to my partner, though 
with this disclosure I had it in my power to delay and 
break up our dissolution. But I had made up my mind 
to do it, and what I had seen and heard rather hastened 
than protracted the work; as I did not care to be so 
intimately connected with a man who was actuated by 
such motives. I must say, however, that in my judg- 
ment, Mr. Rich was always true and honest with me, in 
the matter of dollars and cents, and I could trust him 
as I think he did me, with untold gold, yet the course 
he frequently pursued to carry a point, I never could 
endorse, and I mention it here to guard young men 
against such double- dealing ; as I believe, in the end, no 
good will come of it; for as sure as the world moves, 
it will all come to light sooner or later. I would noth- 
ing extenuate nor aught set down in malice; but I 
must speak the truth, for this will live when I am dead. 
I reluctantly draw the veil aside, for after me there is 
no one to do it; although, since his death, his best 
and nearest friends have had satisfactory evidence of 
the truth of what I say. It is also true, that while liv- 
~ ing, with all his faults, I.saw elements in him that one 
might do well to imitate. 

Somehow I am inclined to believe what a man says, 
‘and it makes an impression upon me, though at times I 


/ 


208. FROM POVERTY TO PLENTY; OR, 


somewhat question all that is said. In this case I 
thought Mr. Rich meant what he said; and it looked 
reasonable that he needed all his funds to prosecute the 
fish business, as it had become quite extensive, espe- 
cially as we furnished capital and stock for two of the 
largest houses in New York and Philadelphia. 

The result of Mr. Rich’s trying to get the advantage 
of me in the dissolution, especially in failing to secure 
the young man, after all the unfair means he employed, 
developed itself in after years, as this same man became 
his greatest competitor in trade. What he never seemed 
to forget in me was the setting up of this man; making 
it, as he said, hard work for him; when in faet I tried 
all I could to influence him to make some bargain with 
Mr. Rich, up to the time of his unfair proposition, be- 
fore related. And whenever he referred to it I merely 
said, It is the result of your own serving. 

At the time agreed upon, we took an inventory of all 
our assets, bills due and stock on hand. We did this 
more minutely than usual when taking account of stock, 
though I was well satisfied that it was the purpose of 
my partner to buy the stock on hand, yet he kept his 
purpose in the back ground, and now the question was 
to fix a price, either to sell or buy. I offered him five 
hundred dollars bonus to name a price, and allow me 
to buy or sell. This he refused to do, for the reason 
that I had proposed a dissolution (which was true). 
I must name a price without any consideration. I felt 


THE LIFE OF DAVID SNOW. 209 


all along that it would come to that, though it did not 
indicate any smartness on his part, only my giving him 
_ the choice, which was worth ten thousand dollars, or 
even more. But I saw no other way to bring our busi- 
ness to a close; and while I saw I was giving away a 
fortune, which together, by industry, we’ had acquired, 
having built up the greatest fish business in the country, 
if not in the world, yet I thought it would be better for 
me, as I sought not notoriety, but a quiet, peaceful life, 
and that with my own experience for some thirty years, 
something would turn up to my interest, as I had been 
in just such a condition before; and having confidence 
in myself, I would make the experiment. And after some 
little time I named a price for each article of stock on 
hand, and offered it to him at said price, giving him 
twenty-four hours to accept or not. The condition was 
cash ; and the party who sold out was to obligate him- 
self not to engage in the same business for one year. 
The next day he appeared undecided, and said his wife 
thought he had better sell out to me. I knew this was 
all for effect, and said, ‘‘ Will you let me take the stock 
and business on the same lay I have offered it to you?” 
He asked me if I would take it. I asked him to allow 
me one hour to decide. He said, ‘‘ Can’t you decide ‘it 
now?” Failing to get him committed,and seeing through 
him, as I thought, I said, ‘‘ Yes, I will take it on the 
same terms I proposed to you.” He stood a moment, 

and then said he would accept my offer ; and so the mat- 


4 


ter was settled. I only mention this to show that if I 
had not decided to take the stock, he would then have 
named a lower price, and yet not allow me an equal 


210 FROM POVERTY TO PLENTY; OR, 


chance with him. 

We then proceeded to divide our bills receivable-and 
cash on hand. Asa matter of course, I had received — 
fifty thousand dollars of cash assets as an offset to the 
stock on hand, and the balance was equally divided, ex- _ 


cept our real estate and shipping. This was left for — 
future adjustment and division. | 

The wharf was managed by a man employed as wharf- — 
inger, who collected the rents and wharfage and handed — 
it to us, and it was kept on our books separate from our — 
other business. Each ship was also kept separate, as 
ta profit and loss. Some little time before our dissolu- — 
tion, City Wharf was sold at auction and purchased by 
Josiah Quincy, who laid out the part bounded by Com- 
mercial Street into store lots, and advertised to sell — 
them at auction. I proposed to Mr. Rich to buy one 
of the lots, but he seemed very indifferent about it; so 
much so that I'thought he would not buy at all. But 
what was my surprise, at the auction, when one of the — 
lots (the very one on which our old store stood) was 
knocked off to Isaac Rich, who very soon commenced 
building the store that now stands on said lot, and into 
which he moved his business soon after our dissolution, 
and in which he remained until his death in 1872. 

As Constitution Wharf was not central for a commis- 


THE LIFE OF DAVID SNOW. 211 


sion business, which I proposed to follow, I hired a 
counting-room in an adjoining store to his, at the head 
of City Wharf, and put out my old sign, — ‘‘ David 
Snow & Co., Commission Merchants,” — and he put up 
a new sign, — ‘‘ Isaac Rich & Co.” ‘The firm consisted 
of Isaac Rich and three or four of our clerks, with Dana, 
a son-in-law of Rich. A pretty strong concern as to 
numbers. Mr. Rich was the only real business man 
in the firm, the others being mainly in-door men, and 
good accountants, but with little or no practical knowl- 
edge of buying and selling goods. But the prestige of 
Snow & Rich followed the new concern, and they were 
successful. 

There was one little circumstance which took place 
soon after we had dissolved, rather laughable to me. 
We had bought several cargoes of number three mack- 
erel. This was in June, 1854, and they were shipped 
to Philadelphia before we dissolved. Mr. Rich was 
‘very anxious that I should let the new concern take the 
- shipment at cost; and, as he urged it so hard, I at last 


. consented. These mackerel were not insured. As we 


had been large shippers to all the Southern ports, we 
hardly ever covered our shipments, but stood our own 
insurance. A few days after this transaction, Mr. Rich 
came in and said to me, ‘‘ Those mackerel are ashore 
on Cape May, and there is no insurance.” As this was 
the first shipment of the new concern, he felt rather 
down about it, as he thought it indicated bad luck, and 


— ¥ > 


212 FROM POVERTY TO PLENTY} OR, 


I thought so too; as we, for eleven years, had been 


shipping to Philadelphia, and had never lost.a dollar. 
Having got thus far in our division, I told Mr. Rich 


I thought we had better divide the real estate and the — 


ships. This he seemed rather disinclined to do, as he 
could not bear to lose his interest in the ships and the 
wharf. At several interviews, he stated that if we di- 
vided I must take the wharf, as that was valued at two 
hundred thousand dollars, and the ships at about one 
hundred thousand. He frequently said, that if we divid- 
ed, he preferred to take the ships, as they were of less 
value than the wharf, and that I had better take the 
wharf, which he offered to sell me for two hundred and 
twenty thousand dollars. After considerable talk, and 
- sounding each other as business men are apt to do, and 
failing to agree on the valuation, I said to him one day, 
that I would give him one thousand dollars to name a 
price at which he would buy or sell, which he declined. 
I then offered to give him two thousand dollars, This 
he also declined. I then asked him if he would allow 
the same tome. He said no. I asked if he would al- 
low me one thousand dollars. He said no. ‘** Well,” 
I said, ‘‘I do not see how we can divide, if you will 
not do either.” The man, with all his talents for trade, 
_ which I always admitted, when a question like the above 
was presented, involving three hundred thousand dollars 
of property, was actually afraid of me, though he was 
ambitious that the public should consider him the smart- 


THE LIFE OF DAVID SNOW. 213 


er of the two. I then said, ‘*‘ What shall we do?” (The 


fact was, he thought if we did not divide he could con- 


trol the whole.) I was determined to divide in some 
way, though I had, as in previous cases, the laboring 
oar. After some more talk, he said, if I would name 
a price without any consideration, he would accept one 
or the other, though he did not want the wharf. There 
was a large amount of property to divide, and the choice 
was worth five thousand dollars, and still I was put in 
a position that, unless I named a price, it must remain 
as heretofore, a joint property. I had made up my 
mind that in our dissolution I might lose ten thousand 
dollars, and that Mr. Rich might get that advantage of 
me; andso it proved. I finally named a price, as I 
had on the stock, supposing he meant what he had said, 
that he preferred the navigation to the wharf, as he 
wanted the money in his business. But to my surprise, 
after I had named a price for the wharf, — two hundred 
‘and twenty thousand dollars, the price he proposed to 
sell it to me for, —he said, ‘* Well, I will take the 
wharf.” This somewhat changed my plans, asI thought . 
I should not do much, if any, active business, for a 
year at least, and I judged the wharf might furnish me 
something to look after, and that I might get vessels to 
load and unload, ete. But no; I was compelled to 
take the shipping. Thus my whole plans were frustrat- 
ed, and I had to work up something else. All this, 
however, was only verbal, and of no binding force any 


114 FROM POVERTY TO PLENTY}; OR, 


further than I was willing to consummate it; and, 
though he had misled me, yet I would not back down. — 
This was a very large amount of property, some three 
hundred thousand dollars, and I must name a price 
for no consideration, and he to have his choice. I 
would gladly have given five thousand dollars for the 
choice. The secret of all this was, Enoch Train, one 
of our Boston merchants, who was running a line of 
ships to Liverpool, had been talking of buying this 
wharf, and it happened that on the very day that I 
named a price, Mr. Rich saw him, and he offered him 
the same price I had named. Here was a fine chance 
for him, though after all, he did not seem to like the 
idea of selling out the wharf. The purchase, at the first, 
was suggested by me, and it was bought mainly through 
my influence. It cost one hundred and seventy thous- 





and dollars, and we had spent some twenty thousand 
in building, etc. After he agreed to take the wharf, 
he thought he was smart, and had secured the best of 
the trade. He reported among our acquaintances, that 
he had put it to Snow this time. Snow meant to have 
the wharf, but he had got the ships on to him, and he 
had taken the wharf and sold it at cost, and was now 
all sold out. This he considered smart. 

In dividing this property, it was understood that the 
one who sold the navigation, sold with it all his right 
and good will, and was not to interfere with the other. 
Soon after we had passed the bill of sale, and I was 


THE LIFE OF DAVID SNOW. 215 


busy in making arrangements with the captains and 
owners to manage it as heretofore, Mr. Rich and his 
partners set themselves to work to secure the manage- 
ment of the ships, and thus throw me out of the com- 
mission received for so doing, as we had always done. 
Snow & Rich, with the captains, owned, all the way 
from one-fourth to one-half of each ship. The plan 
was, to secure the captains, under the promise of build- 
ing them new ships. In this way he took two of our 
best masters, and built them new ships; and to keep 
the balance; [had to do the same. I then built the ships 
«¢ Addie Snow,” one thousand tons; ‘‘ Nauset,” one 
thousand tons; ‘‘ Astenon,” twelve hundred tons; and 
<‘Reporter,” fonrteen hundred tons. He built the 
«¢ Wellfleet,” and ‘* Wilbur Fisk,” of one thousand tons 
each, and the ‘‘ Enoch Train,” sixteen hundred tons. 
Then commenced a lively competition in navigation, 
but in‘a fair competition I came out ahead. The only 
reason he assigned for not taking the ships in lieu of the 
wharf was, that I had prized them too high, which was 
only an excuse for acting one way and talking another. 
As proof that I did not do so, I sold one of the ships 
which I prized at thirty-two thousand dollars, on her 
way from Liverpool to Boston, for thirty-four thousand 
dollars. The first voyage after our division, she had 
earned me over twelve thousand dollars clear of ex- 
pense. This was the first ship we built, seven hundred 
and fifty tons, called the ‘: Chasca.” I owned one-half 


216 FROM POVERTY TO PLENTY; OR, 


of her, and he tried every possible way to get the man- 
agement of this ship after he had sold me his interest 
and good will, but did not succeed. The old captain, 
who owned a controlling interest, asked Mr. Rich if he 
thought he would do so mean an act, after he had sold 
out to me, as to give him the control of the ship. 

It so happened that the trade opened up and gave 
great employment to ships, and ship property advanced 
twenty per cent. in the first year after 1 bought out the 
navigation. He then tried to buy back one or more at 
cost, but I was clear of him and intended to stand clear 
of'all such entanglements in the future. I never inter- 
fered with him. One day he came to me and said, 
‘¢ Snow, this is always my luck.” I made no reply, but» 
felt thankful that I was under no obligations to him in 
any way. But it really troubled him to think that after 
all, I had really got the advantage in the trade. 

He took a mortgage on the wharf for some ten years, 
at six per cent., while the interest I had in ships paid 
thirty per cent. Really, the position and the trade 
which Snow & Rich had built up, during their co-part- 
nership, was a fortune to any one with capacity to take 
it up and carry it on; as the business, with good man- 
agement, would leave a net profit of over fifty thousand 
dollars per year. All this I gave up to my old partner, 
without one dollar’s compensation. I had come fully 
to this conclusion, that I had got to depend on my own 
business capacity for success, and my past experience 


THE LIFE OF DAVID SNOW. 217 


had convinced me that I was fully competent for the 
task. 
‘There was no written agreement between us in all this 
business of dissolution, and I should have been justified 
had I refused to consummate the trade. But it was my 
purpose and desire to stand by my word, even though 
it worked. against my temporal interests, as it really did 
for a time in this case; knowing that in the end such a 
course would turn to my interest. 

Fhus ended my co-partnership with Isaac Rich. I 
have said what I have with no malice against my old 
partner, but that the dommunity may understand the 
inside workings of men who secure a fair name, and are 
known for high moral worth. There is no man living 
who knew Mr. Rich as well as I, and no one so well 
prepared to give a true description of his character. 
With all his defects he had excellent traits of. character 


which I never failed to admire and appreciate. 
19 


CHAPTER XI. 
SAILING MY OWN ORAFT. 


‘*Lapor is life! —’ Tis the still water faileth; 
Idleness ever despaireth, bewaileth; 
Keep the watch wound, or the dark rust assaileth. 
Labor is rest— from the sorrows that greet us: 
Rest from all petty vexations that meet us, 
Rest from sin-promptings that ever entreat us, 


Rest from world-syrens that lure us to ill.” 
— Mrs. Osgood. 


OME little time before I dissolved with Mr. Rich, 
there being but one M. E. Church in Charlestown, 


' 


f 


and even in that there were elements which did not ~ 


work harmoniously, it seemed to me, as well as to 
others, that we must have another church. Some nine 
of us met at my house and formed a new society, and 
hired the Town Hall for a time, and then a hall near 
by. The Conference, after a while, sent us Rev. Mr. 
Mann, formerly from N. H. Conference, and we gath- 
ered in quite a congregation during the first year. But 
we found after a while, that we must have a church of 


our own. Aside from myself, the wealth of the entire 
218 


) 


THE LIFE OF DAVID SNOW. 219 


church did not exceed thirty thousand dollars. A 
church would cost us twenty thousand dollars, and 
where the money was coming from was a serious ques- 
tion. We started a subscription, but could not raise 
over six thousand dollars, three thousand of which I 
gave. ‘This did not have a very hopeful look; but still 
we must have a church or give up the enterprise. The 
laboring oar fell on me. My partner gave me three 
hundred dollars, and this was all we could raise outside 
of ourselves. I had made up my mind to give one-tenth 
of all I was worth towards the enterprise. During the 
year we gathered a congregation of two hundred. I 
gave some twelve thousand dollars towards the building 
of the church. In the first place, I bought some seven 
thousand feet of land on the corner of High and Con- 
cord Streets, for which I paid one dollar per foot. We 
made a contract with one of the members, by the name 
of Clark, to build the church, which, when done, we 
named the Union M. E. Church, as we proposed to 
live in peace. I struck the first blow with the pick, in 
breaking ground. It was in the month of August, 
1850. We had our trials, as is ordinarily the case, in 
-church building, but we were enabled to get into the 
vestry in December, and for a year it was a Bethesda to 
-many souls. This church cost us seventeen thousand 
dollars. More than one-half came from me. I told my 
mother afterwards that I had built a temple or house to 
worship God in, and it had taken one-tenth of all my 


uw 


220 FROM POVERTY TO PLENTY; OR, 


earthly goods, and I thonght it might be said that my 
religion was not in word only ; and the old lady seemed 
to rejoice that she had such a son, the youngest of her 
family, that had. it in his heart to do so much for the 
church, a monument that would live after he was dead. 

Soon after this I bought a lot at Mount Auburn, 
where lie two of our children. A monument marks 
the spot, and their names are on it. 

Eastham Camp-Meeting was a favorite spot to me, 
which I visited every August, during the time it was 
held there, some twenty years. Father Taylor used to 
call it the half-way-house to glory, and so it was to 
many. The going and coming was at times attended 
with inconvenience and danger. Notwithstanding all 
this, there was no place in New England for a camp- 
mecting like old Cape Cod. For salt water bathing it 
never had its equal. Newport and Martha’s Vineyard 
are not to be compared with it. On the Bay side the 
water ebbs out-and leaves the flats (which are all white 
sand) some half a mile, and by noon the sun has warm- 
ed the flats so that the cold chill is taken off, and one 
can wade in as deep as he pleases without danger of 
any under-tow or deep water. At one time I and a 
brother sat on the beach-as the vessels and steamers 
came up loaded with people. It was a golden sunset. 
The landing in boats on their arrival formed a pano- 
rama such as I neyer saw before nor since. It was wor- 
thy the pen of the poet or pencil of the painter. I did 


THE LIFE OF DAVID SNOW. 221 


undertake it, and published it in ‘‘ Zion’s Herald,” but it 
came far short of the reality. At one time, on our return 
in one of the large steamers, with some six hundred pas- 
sengers ou board, it blew a gale from the north-east, 
and when half way across the bay the sea broke across 
her deck and she rolled and tumbled about like an egg, 
and such crying and vomiting was never seen before. 
Some were praying, expecting every moment to sink. 
It was a terrible sight to witness, and all expected to 
find a watery grave. But finally she was headed for 
Provincetown, where she arrived safely ; and the people © 
showed us no little kindness, took us into their houses, 
and opened the vestry of the church, and accommodat- 
ed us as_ best they could; an event some have 
never forgotten and never will, it being a very narrow 
escape from death. After this, some would never ven- 
ture en board a steamer for Eastham, but went by land. 
Soon after, landing being attended with so much incon- 
venience, and the going and coming so dangerous, East- 
ham was given up and the Yarmouth Camp-meeting 
substituted, as the railroad landed its passengers at 
the camp-ground, avoiding all this trouble and danger 
of going to Eastham by water. ‘But now, in 1874, the 
railroad extends to Eastham, and some have thought of 
reinstating the old Eastham Camp-meeting ; but it has 
never been done, and it looks at present as if it never 
would be done. 

Soon after the Cape people had decided on Yarmouth 


222 FROM POVERTY TO PLENTY; OR, 


for their camp-meeting, the Boston and Lynn people 
decided on Hamilton, and now both are better sustained 
than was old Eastham, though there are a great many 
who cannot forget the many good times enjoyed at old 
Eastham, 

By a mere accident I attended the sale of a house on 
Tremont Street, without any idea of buying. I was in- 
vited to the sale by a friend of mine who expressed to 
me his intention of buying it, as it was the best location 
for a dwelling-house in Boston. It hung for some time 
at twenty-four thousand nine hundred and fifty dollars, 
and the auctioneer pressed very hard for another bid, 
and looking at me, said, ‘‘ Give me fifty more.” I did 
so, and off it went to ‘‘ David Snow.” I felt alittle sick 
of my purchase, and at once found the man who had 
bid twenty-four thousand nine hundred: and fifty, and 
offered it to him at his bid, being willing to lose: fifty 
dollars. But he did not want it; and it came out that 
he was only a by-bidder. Here I was with a house on 
my shoulders which I did not want. Failing to sell or 
to rent it (for it was very much out of repair), I deter- 
mined to remodel it; and got an estimate from a master 
mechanic, who said it would cost six thousand dollars. 
But before it was finished it cost me eleven thousand. I 
made it my residence, and have remained there eversince ; 
and now I could sell it for seventy thousand dollars. 
So that instead of its being a poor trade, it has turned 
out to be a good one, as Tremont Street, contrary to the 


THE LIFE OF DAVID SNOW. 223 


judgment of every resident, has become a business 
street. x 

Owning a very fine estate in Charlestown, worth some 
thirty-four thousand dollars, just opposite the Monu- 
ment, at the head of Cordis Street, I sold one-half of it 
. to Deacon Shipley (a great mistake) for nine thousand 
five hundred dollars, which was sold soon after by his 
widow for fourteen thousand. 

Soon after my partnership dissolution I bought two 
lots of land of Josiah Quincy, sen., on what was called the 
Dock, between Long and City Wharves, Nos. 1 and 4, 
on which I built four brick stores, and called them Snow’s 
Block, which I leased for four thousand dollars per an- 
num for five years. This I thought a good purchase. 
One of these stores was opposite the store I leased and 
occupied when I first came to Boston in 1833. These 
stores cost me eighty-six thousand dollars. I sold No. 
4, in 1871, at about cost, as property did not seem to 
Increase much in that locality. There have been great 
changes in real estate. Some localities have increased 
one hundred per cent., while some, especially at the 
North End, are much the same as thirty years ago. 

While Snow & Rich owned Constitution Wharf, we 
built a brick store at the westerly part, on Commercial 

Street. On this I built a small tower, and put up an 
emblem of our business in the shape of a mackerel, 
which stands there to-day, indicating which way the 
wind blows. This store stands on the very spot where 


224 FROM POVERTY TO PLENTY; OR, 


-_ 


the old Constitution was built, and in digging for a 
foundation we dug up some of the timbers on whieh she 
was launched, and from which we made some dozen or 
more canes, and the bowsprit of one of our ships. Her 
bowsprit reached across Commercial Street. It was a 
great time when she was launched, as there never had 
been so large a ship built before in New England. 

The ship ‘‘ Reporter,” which I built, excited consid- 
erable notoriety among the ship-owners, and while 
loading at Constitution Wharf, I invited several of my 
friends and gave them a collation, and among the num- 





ber was Father Taylor and wife, who were much pleased 
with the ship, and so were others. There were but few, 
if any, her equal. During the collation Father Taylor 
was called on for a speech. He was one of that class 
of men who could load and fire at the same time. In 
opening, referring to me, he said: ‘* When I first saw 
him he was rolling over a barrel of flour; after that he 
was holding up a codfish by the tail, and now I sup- 
pose he will not be satisfied till he runs his jib-boom 
into the Rothschild’s banking-house.” Father Taylor 
was not only a generous but a very eccentric and sar- 
castic man. At times he could say the most cutting 
things ever heard, and then the most witty, genial and 
loving ; so that one could hardly help loving him. Said 
one of the prominent members of the Bethel, over which 
he was pastor: ‘‘ Father Taylor can throw a lance and 
hit a man in the very quick of his feelings, and when he 





THE LIFE OF DAVID SNOW. 225 


finds that he has hurt him, will so manipulate the wound, 
and draw a plaster over it, that very soon the man feels 
that he has not been hurt at all.” But few men pos- 
sessed these opposite traits of character, and no man 
could excel him in an impromptu speech. Once at 
Eastham Camp-meeting, some one asked a friend of his, 
where Father Taylor was. He replied, ‘‘ Out in the 
woods studying his sermon” (as he was to preach). 
‘ Well, if that is so, he will make a failure,” said the 
man. But a great man is gone. He had his weak- 
nesses, and few could fail to seethem. I was intimate 
with him for thirty years, and though he at times said 
very severe things to friend and foe, yet I loved him. 
He performed the duties of his calling in and out of the 
church ; possessed little or no executive ability, yet in 
church, for many years, he was a power for good, and 
had he possessed early training, and a disciplined mind, 
he would have had but few if any equals. He had a 
tranquil and peaceful death, and sleeps now with many 
who have gone before to the promised land. 
The vessel before named was my very beau ideal of a 
freighting ship. She was a fine sailor, and carried a 
good cargo. The first year she made two trips to New 
Orleans and Liverpool, and back to Boston, having 
stock worth ninety-six thousand dollars. The net profit, 
after deducting disbursements, was fifty thousand dol- 
lars. The second year she only paid expenses, and I - 
sold her to W. F. Weld & Co. (one of our largest 


226' . FROM POVERTY TO PLENTY; OR, 


ship-owners in Boston), on her way from ni cela to. 


Boston, for seventy-six thousand dollars. 

After my dissolution with Mr. Rich, being compelled 
to go into navigation as a business, contrary to my pre- 
vious plans, I made naval architecture my study, and 
soon acquired the reputation of knowing as much or 
more about it than.any other merchant in Boston. And 
here I will say, I never in my life really embarked in 
any business, but I made it a success. I gave it all my 
best thought, and kept it constantly before me, as I be- 





a 
‘ 
; 
{ 





lieved that success would surely follow a man who 


would stick to his business, and allow no grass to grow ~ 


under his feet. The reason why so many fail in busi- 
ness, is a want of studious industry and interest in it. 
‘Business will not run itself, and if one’s pleasure comes 
in and divides his attention, and he gives but half to 
trade, you may write failure on his sign; for such a re- 
sult is only a question of time. I was acquainted with 
a Boston merchant who used to leave his store in the 
care of his clerks, and go home at two o’clock. I said 
to him one day, ‘‘ How do you expect to prosper and 
give so much of your time to pleasure?” ‘* Oh,” he 
replied, ‘‘ there are such fine rides in Brookline” (where 
“he lived), ‘*I must enjoy them.” The result was, he 
never had much suceess, though he was naturally a 
good business man. He was just able to keep his head 
above water. His son, who succeeded him, possessing 
more or less of his father’s business characteristics, soon 
failed. 


THE LIFE OF DAVID SNOW. 207 


I bought the ship ‘‘ South Shore,” of one thousand 
tons. Having fairly embarked in navigation, I took 
great pride in building the best ships afloat. Iam sat- 
isfied, from long experience, that many fatal mistakes’ 
- are made in youth. ‘The passions and appetites are al- 
lowed to rule us, until, in many instances, they can 
never be corrected. Early religious training does very 
much in forming a good character, and really, ‘‘ The 
fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom.” To be 
truthful in all things-is the foundation of success; and 
he who designedly lays a trap for his neighbor is quite 
sure to be caught in it himself. I always felt a sense 
of gratitude to my mother for my early religious train- 
ing, though I thought but little of it then; yet impres- 
sions were made on my heart which I never forgot. 4 

In 1856 there was a glorious revival of religion in 
Charlestown, and some eighty were converted and join- - 
ed the M. E. Church, in which I took great interest ; 
having given to the erection of the church some twelve 
thousand dollars, —it costing about seventeen thous- 
and. Iwas now a resident of Boston, though I held 
my relation in the Union M. E. Church, Charlestown. 

There was, about this time, a union prayer-meeting 
opened in Spring Lane, in a chapel belonging to the 
Old South Church, which I attended regularly. It was 
known as the “‘ Old South Prayer-meeting,” and resulted 
in much good. A record of these meetings has been 
published, which is full of the blessed results attending 
them. 


228 FROM POVERTY TO PLEXTY; OR, 


I am fully persuaded, as I look over my past life, 
that in this country, as every enterprise is open to com- 
petition, there is no such word as fail to a young man 
with ordinary capacity, who will be honest, virtuous, ~ 
economical and persevering. f 

May 22, the whole country was thrown into great 
excitement. News reached Boston, just at night, 
that a senator from South Carolina, by the name of 
Brooks, had felled Mr. Sumner to the floor of the 
Senate, by a violent blow with a cane, and that he was 
senseless. The people were greatly excited. Tremont 
Temple was thrown open and soon filled with the citi- 
. zens of Boston, on account of this brutal assault for 
words spoken in debate. Following this was an indig- 
nation meeting in Faneuil Hall, Governor Washburn 
presiding. All parties, without distinction, took part, 


’ 


€ 
Y 


denouncing the act as mean and cowardly. Thatwasa _ 


blow from the South, aimed at the liberties of all the 
North. Spirited resolutions were unanimously passed, 
in. condemnation of the barbarous act. The whole 
North was aroused, and it semed to be a settled con- 
viction that it was either slavery or liberty for us all; 
and I said, ‘‘God grant that the latter may prevail.” 
There were a great many pro-slavery men in the North, 
whose interests inclined them to sympathise with the 
South. A great many Northern men had gone South 
and married and become slave-owners. The year 1856 
will always be memorable in our country. It was then 


THE LIFE OF DAVID SNOW. 229 


settled at*the ballot-box that slavery must die. There 
was then, and for some time after, no other question 
before the people but slavery or free territory.. At our 
presidential election the candidates were Fremont and 
Buchanan. All the free states except Pennsylvania 
and New Jersey, which were Democratic, went for Fre- 
mont; and, though the Republicans lost the election, 
they gave a great check to the pro-slavery feeling of the 
North. 

Rev. W. S. Studley delivered a lécture in Tremont 
Temple, at which I presided, on ‘‘ The rights and du- 
ties of American citizens in the present exigencies of 
public affairs.” The Temple was crowded. : 

The State of Kansas was mainly settled by people 
from New England, and at this time was in a high state 
of political excitement on account of slavery. It was 
carrying the war into the enemy’s camp, and at times, 
came near breaking out into a civil war, as one of the 
judges of the Supreme Conrt had declared that the 
black man had no rights which the white man was bound 
to respect. 

Shipping became very dull, and it was thought that 
if we had war with England, it would become worth- 
less. The war was then raging between Russia and 
Turkey; France and England siding with the latter. 
Russia was no doubt anxious to get Constantinople, the 
key to the Black Sea, an outlet for her fleets. This 


France and England did not like, so they combined 
20 


230 FROM POVERTY TO PLENTY; OR, 


their whole strength against Russia. June 15, I wrote: 


«‘ Business duli, more or less fighting in Kansas, dif- 
ficulties with England. It looks dark for our coun- 


try, and for the liberty of the poor slave, but it must. 


come sooner or later.” I visited Saratoga this summer 
with my wife and daughter; spent a week or so, and 
heard Dr. Dearborne preach a very practical sermon. 
Started for home via Lake St. George. The travel 
from Saratoga to the Lake was partly by stage, over very 
uneven roads. On Monday following, took a steamer 
for Lake Champlain. This was a delightful ride, or 
sail. The scenery was sublime, the water very trans- 
parent and clear, with a sandy bottom. We stopped at 
Fort Ticonderoga, and other places of Revolutionary 
notoriety. This Fort was taken of the English by Ethan 
Allen and his Vermont company, who entered it by a sub- 
terranean passage leading from a well into the Fort. A 
demand was made of the captain to surrender, who 
asked, ‘*To whom?” The reply was, **To God Al- 
mighty and the Continental Congress.” (It seems that 
there was a line of forts from Canada, running south- 
westerly to the Mississippi, built by the French.) It 
is said of Allen that he had an only daughter who was 
sick, and the physician thought she could not recover. 
Her mother was a Christian, and her father an infidel. 
She asked her father what religion she had better em- 
brace. He said, ‘* Your mother’s.” This was honest, 
and his daughter acted under his advice, and embraced 
her mother’s religion. 






: 


THE LIFE OF DAVID SNOW. 231 


Before we reached Lake Champlain next day we 
heard of the destruction of the steamer, on her return 
trip, by fire. We came over Lake St. George in the 
steamer, and it sent a thrill of sadness over us all 
to think how near we came to,death by being burnt. 
This reminded me that dangers stand thick all around, 
and one must be prepared at any moment to change 
worlds. On the American side, after resting awhile 
at Burlington, we took the cars for Boston, by the 
Vermont Central. On our way, there came up a vio- 
lent shower, causing a land-slide, covering the track. 
Yankee-like, I got out to see it, and the progress that 
was made to remove it, and looking round, I saw the 
train backing down to the hotel four miles below. 
Night coming on, I had to work my passage down 
on a working-car, by turning a crank. My folks were 
very glad to see me, not knowing what had become of 
me. The next day we arrived home all right. 

In August I visited again that loved spot to many, 
Millennial Grove Camp-meeting, at Eastham, and during 
the meeting some fifty souls passed from death unto life. 
Many who loved old Eastham have finished their course 
and gone home to glory. During the meeting, Rev. 
John Linsey preached a very powerful sermon on the 
Judgment. During its delivery it thundered and light- 
ened very powerfully. Afterwards some one asked 
him for the manuscript for publication. His answer 
was, that it could not be done unless they could publish 


232 FROM POVERTY TO PLENTY} OR, 


the thunder and lightning with it. There were some 
in the Union M. E. Church tent, from Charlestown, and 
such was the effect of the meeting upon the tent’s com- 
pany arter they returned home, that a blessed work of 
God continued, until some eighty souls were sayed. 

In Boston the work of revival seemed to be on the 
increase. An evangelist by the name of Day, who 
came from Ohio, was engaged by the different denom- 
inations, and his labors were productive of great good, 
and a revival spirit seemed to prevail over all New 
England. He was avery earnest, goodman. Such was 


the interest in religion that Park-Street Church employ- - 


ed Prof. Finney, from Oberlin College, a man of great 
power (formerly a lawyer) and full of the Holy Ghost, 
and the most searching preacher I ever heard. He ex- 


posed every sinful indulgence so that one might see 


himself, if he so desired. He tore off the covering of 
every idol of whatever sort. He produced a great ef- 
fect among the Congregationalists, of which church he 
was a member. 

My business for 1856 closed up without any special 
interest. It was now mainly in shipping. I owned 
two stores on City Wharf, worth about one hun- 
dred thousand dollars, and my dwelling house, No. 
160 Tremont Street, worth forty thousand. My com- 
missions and profits were fully equal to -my expenses. 
I was not very ambitious to make money to be rich, 
or to enlarge my business to reach that end. I was 


THE LIFE OF DAVID SNOW. 233 


rather inclined to take things easy, having given some 
thirty years of the best of my life and my best efforts 
to lay up against a rainy day. The excitement and 
care usually accompanying a business life, was with me 
‘settling down into a more quiet frame of mind. I had 
nearly or quite settled up with my old partner, and had 
learned something more of poor, weak human nature, in 
the contest for success in business, in addition to what 
‘I already knew of the world. But I was rather inclined 
to stop and look on awhile and see more. 
I had fixed a place in business for my oldest son, with 
a Mr. Darling, in the cotton trade, furnishing them 
twenty-five thousand dollars as capital. This I pur- 
posed to give him if he was successful. I also made 
a place for my youngest son with F. Snow, in the fish 
_ trade, where I furnished forty thousand dollars, hoping 
that with this aid they might take hold of business and 
be successful, and that it might prove a stimulus to 
them; yet in this I was disappointed. Jam more and 
more convinced that unless a young man puts his heart 
into his business he will not succeed. If anything else 
is allowed to come in between him and his business he 
may as well give up first as last, for business, like a 
ship, will never make a voyage, however good a sailor 
she may be, unless some one on board has command, 
who is interested in the voyage and watches every turn 
of wind and weather. 
In 1857 I became a member of the Wesleyan Asso- 


234 FROM POVERTY TO PLENTY; OR, 


ciation, for the publication of ‘‘ Zion’s Herald.” This 
Association was incorporated, and held real estate to 
the amount of twenty thousand dollars; the main object 
being, at some future time, to own a building, where it 
might carry on its business. It is composed of twenty 
members, all of whom are members of the M. E. Church. 

I attended, during the Spring of 1857, a missionary 
meeting at Bromfield-Street Church, where Bishop Janes 
preached one of his most powerful sermons on the power 
of divine love as the ouly motive power to bring men 
to Christ. Many were moved even to tears. 

At the morning prayer-meetings, in the Old South 
Chapel, we had precious times. Prof. Finney, when 


present at one time, made mention of some powerful re- - 


vivals under his ministry, and tears flowed from many 
eyes. He mentioned a circumstance that took place in 
the western part of New-York State, after he had a 
license to preach. It was at a school-house, in rather a 
thinly peopled place. On his arrival, he found the 
house full of people, the most uncouth and rough-look- 
ing he had ever seen: some in shirt-sleeves, and hats on, 


and dressed in all manner of costumes, looking rather 


savagé withal. Nothing daunted, he took for his text 
what the angel said to Lot: ‘*‘ Up! get thee out of this 
place; for God will destroy it!” He was an entire 
stranger, never there before, and knew nothing about 
the place or the people, except that some one told him 
that there was one man in the place, by the name of 


: 


! 
1 


THE LIFE OF DAVID SNOW. 235 


Lot, who was a Christian. But as soon as he opened 
the meeting he felt that God was with him in mighty 
power. He had but just commenced his sermon, 
when he noticed that they all looked at him very 
fiercely, as though they would do him violeace. He 
proceeded in a very calm and pleasant way, telling 
them how God sent his angel to warn Lot of his danger ; 
when suddenly, like fire, the Holy Spirit came down in 
avery wonderful manner. Some fell down, and all be- 
gan to cry for mercy. So great was the feeling that he 
had to stop preaching and call on the deacon to pray. He 
did so, in a very loud voice, but could not get their at- 
tention. Mr. Finney knelt by the side of one, and whis- 
pered in his ear, ‘‘ Look to Jesus!” and he soon found 
peace, and became more quiet ; and then to another, and 
so on, until he had spoken to eight or ten; and before he 
finished his sermon, nearly all in the room found peace. 
Afterwards he found out why they looked so fiercely at 
him on his reading his text. The place was so very 
wicked that the people called it Sodom, and the only 
Christian in the place was called Lot, and they all 
thought he took his text as he did, knowing all their 
circumstances, when in fact he knew nothing of them. 
But the spirit of God seemed to lead him to preach as 
he did, and for the life of him he could not at the time 
refer to the chapter from which he took his text. 

Rey. Prof. Finney left Boston early in the Summer, 
for Ohio. His preaching produced a wide-spread influ- 


236 FROM POVERTY TO PLENTY; OR, 


ence for good, and it was thought that nearly one thous- 


and souls were saved. Park-Street Church paid him 
one thousand dollars, and his wife five hundred. She 


was a good woman, and was indeed a helpmeet to him, — 


though they were both anti-woman’s rights in their re- 
ligious views, and thought the time had not eome for 
women to take part in social meetings, and consequent- 
ly advocated women’s meetings led by women. 


The winter of 1857 was the coldest winter known for — 


years. Boston harbor was completely frozen up, and 
the English steamers had to be cut out, after several 
days’ detention, the glass ranging from ten to twenty- 
five degrees below zero. The harbor was at times all 
alive with people skating and promenading on the ice. 
I went, with others, down on the ice, and near the Cas- 
tle, went on board a steamer frozen in. The ice was 
so thick that people went from Chelsea to East Boston ; 
and though the winter was one of great severity, yet 


the Spring opened with the singing of birds, mild and ~ 


gentle. 

In the Summer of 1858, provisions were very high, 
and business of all kinds very dull, especially in ship- 
ping, in which I was mostly engaged. As a sample, I 
will state, that flour was ten dollars, corn one dollar and 
fifteen cents, potatoes one dollar and twenty cents, su- 
gar from twelve to fifteen cents, molasses: sixty-five 
cents, and other things in proportion; and still wages 
were low, which made it very hard for poor people ; 


ee 




















THE ‘LIFE OF DAVID SNOW. 258 


and all this while the land produced bountifully for 
both man and beast. But the fact was people neglect- 
ed the farm and flocked to the city, and entered into 
speculation. There could never be a greater mistake 
than for men to neglect industrial pursuits for specula- 
tion, as it detracts from their moral character and leads, 
ordinarily, to poverty and misery. 

I suffered much during the summer with a pain in 
my breast. I wore an India-rubber jacket, which caused 
a constant perspiration, and resulted in the breaking out 
of boils all over my body, nearly one hundred at a time. 
I took remedies which gave me an appetite and conse- 
quently strength, and I soon recovered my wonted 
health. I began to feel less and less anxiety about busi- 
ness, and gave more time to the cultivation of my inner 
life. But my old partner went deeper and deeper into 
trade. Heaven, to me, is looming up with increased 
attractions, while the world has far less attractions. 

About this time quite a large sale of real estate took 
place between Central and Long Wharves. Some twen- 
ty store lots, which are now built on and called State- 
Street Block, sold for from eighteen dollars per foot 
down to five dollars and fifty cents. I felt somewhat like 
buying, but could not get my courage up to the price. 
I was soon after satisfied I was right in not buying. 

The rides around Boston are unequalled. I frequent- 
ly enjoy them. The roads are fine, the country resi- 

dences are beautiful, and the foliage and flowers make 


238 FROM POVERTY TO PLENTY; OR, 


the very atmosphere fragrant. There is no place in this 
country, if in the world, more attractive than the sub- 
urbs of Boston. Boston merchants take great prige in 
their country residences. No pains nor expense are 
spared to make these suburbs attractive; and from our 
country highlands may be seen our beautiful harbor, stud- 
ded with beautiful islands, and all kinds of crafts, from the 
sail-boat to the magnificent ship; the latter coming and 
going to and from foreign ports, loaded with the wealth 
of the Indies. Corey’s Hill, in Brookline, stands among 
them most grand and prominent to-day. 

Our ship, ‘‘ South Shore,” was (June 6th) at Caleutta. 
She took out some six missionaries for the Congrega- 
tionalist Society, and landed them at Madras. One of 
the missionaries, a young man who was married just 
before he left, entered into the missionary work, it is 
feared, more for employment than any heart to convert 
the heathen. A gentleman, by the name of Tyler, went 
out in the ship with a small steam-engine, for the pur- 
pose of running on one of the rivers; and this young 
missionary made a proposition to join him in the enter- 
prise, and would have done so had Tyler guaranteed 
him a salary equal to what he was to receive from the 
Missionary Board. He wrote home finding fault with 
the ‘stores, as though he expected to have, on a sea- 
voyage, as fresh provisions daily as if he were boarding 
at a hotel. We satisfied the Board that we had pro- 
vided the ship with a liberal outfit, and there the matter 
ended so far as the ship was concerned. 





THE LIFE OF DAVID SNOW. 239 


About this time Gen. Scott was invited to visit 
Charlestown, at the erection of a statue for Gen. War- 
ren, one of the Revolutionary heroes who fell on Bun- 
ker Hill while defending it. The breastworks which 
were then constructed, now show traces of the spot 
where the battle was fought. A building was erected 
on the north side of the monument to protect it from 
the weather. 

Jan. 20, 1857, I attended a prayer-meeting at Brother 
Mason’s, in the Black Sea, so called, on account of 
its wickedness. There had been some remarkable con- 
versions among the most abandoned men and women 
the world ever saw. ‘* Father Mason,” as he was call- 
ed, held daily meetings in this place the remainder of 
his earthly life. A man was converted who had been a 
drunkard from his youth. He contracted the habit from 
his father who was a drunkard before him, and when 
his son was sent for liquor he used to drink a little on 
his way home. He was not allowed any time to attend 
school, and was not only ignorant but drunk nearly all 
the time. His wife and children were poorly clad, as 
he spent most of his earnings for drink. He would lay 
in a stock of liquor on Saturday and keep drunk on 
Sunday. At one time, when nearly drunk, a son ten 
years old went to the Sunday-School; his father asked 
_ where he had been, and when informed that he had been 
to the Sunday-School, he said he would whip him if he 
went there again. The boy said, ‘‘ Oh, father! don’t 


240 FROM POVERTY TO PLENTY; OR, 


whip me ; I have been to Father Mason’s Sunday-School, 


and the teacher has been telling me about Jesus, and it — 


makes me so happy.” This touched a tender chord in 


the father’s heart, and he listened to the boy, who said, — 
‘* Father, won’t you go with me next time?” - The result 


was, the poor drunkard was converted ; friends gathered 


around him, and his home soon became a bethel, filled — 


with all the comforts of life. I attended a meeting at 
one time and heard him narrate the change in his con- 
dition, and that of his family ; that now he had a barrel 
of flour, two tons of coal, and all paid for, with many 
other household comforts. His wife was soon convert- 
ed, and his was a happy family, if one could be found on 
earth. Before he was converted he never had but ten 
cents worth of coal at a time; but now God blessed him 
in basket and store. 

In 1857-8, the work of God was revived, and many 
were saved. I cannot mention all that came under my 
observation ; though I have the record of many a mark- 
ed conversion, in a book kept at the time; many of 
them were published by a Mr. Williams, in a book 
specially detailing the answers to prayer. One case 
only I will state, as it is one of interest to all. It was 
a father who had been a drunkard, as he said, for twen- 
ty years. It was a time of general revival in Boston; in 
fact, all through New England. He came to our morning 
meeting in Spring Lane. Before he came, he said, his 
little daughter got up in his lap and looked him in the 


te tet te 


THE LIFE OF DAVID SNOW: 241 


face and said, ‘‘ Papa, why don’t you leave off drink- 
ing? Do, papa; it makes mother feel so bad to live as 
you do. I wish you would.” That look, and the tears 
of his daughter, went straight to his heart, and he start- 
ed for the prayer-meeting. He said, he thought of his 
own wicked condition, of his family, reared in poverty, 
- and all on the account of rum. WHe resolved then and 
there to drink no more, and asked us to pray for him, 
that he might have strength to carry out the purpose. 
The recital of this case brought tears to every eye, and 
after a season of prayer he felt somewhat relieved. He 
came again not long after this, and was saved from his 
intemperate habits and from his sins. His house be- 
_ came a house of prayer instead of a home of drunken- 
“ness. 
These were distressing times among our merchants, — 
times never to be forgotten. Money was scarce, and 
- only obtained for from one to three per cent. Nearly 
one hundred thousand poor laborers were thrown out 
of employment, and had to suffer more or-less during 
the winter. Exchanges were all broken up, though we 
~ had large crops which were ready to come forward, but 
for the unsettled state of finances. Our Calcutta mer- 
_ chants were losing money on their importations. I did 
_ but little, and lost more or less by failures. This was 
a severe ordeal throngh which the country passed, but 
it proved a blessing instead of a curse. The people 


had been overtasked and lived too fast, and this re-ac- 
31 i 


242 FROM POVERTY. TO PLENTY}; OR, 










tion taught them a valuable lesson. Some people have 
the faculty to earn, but never know how to keep money. 

All at once the wonderful financial storm p: 
away, and although the ship of state lost some of her 
sails and rigging, her hull was sound. Specie flowed 
in from all quarters, and there were some eight million 
dollars in our Boston banks, an increase of two mil- 
lions more than before the panic. Produce was very 
low; flour five dollars per barrel, and other things in 
proportion. Business for ships very dull, and ships 
could be bought at twenty-five per cent less than cost. 
All seemed to be waiting for some change for the bet- 
ter. -* 

On June 20, of this year (1858), Ada, our youngest 
daughter, in the providence of God, was called to 
mourn the loss of her husband by death. He was a 
moral young man, but left no evidence of a change of 
heart. Bros. Clark, Cushing, and Thayer officiated at 
the funeral. 

I built a ship in connection with Paul Curtis, of East 
Boston, of one thousand tons. It being the last ship I 
built, I named her ‘‘ Nauset,” after the first town set- 
tled on the Cape, by the Pilgrims, after Plymouth. 


REVIEWING OLD SCENES. 


It had been some thirty-three years since my “ lin- 
sey-woolsey ” speculation in Indianapolis, and I felt a 


THE LIFE OF DAVID SNOW. 243 


strong desire to see the place once more, where I made 
such a loss. I left Boston in October, with my two 


_ daughters. We made several stops on the way. At 


Albany we became acquainted with an English general, 
who was in command of a city in Asia Minor, held by 
ae Turks. We found him exceedingly social, and 
from him we learned some interesting facts of the strug- 
gles, fights, and surrender of the city. He left us at 
Buffalo on his way to Canada, to take command of the 
English forces stationed there. We stopped over night 
at Buffalo, and, as usual, after tea I sallied out to find a 
prayer-meeting. I found a meeting conducted by a 
local preacher, the minister being away to Conference. 
Some fifty only were present, and it was rather prosy. 
None prayed except called on by the leader. I stood 
it as long as I could, and, without an invitation, I took 
the floor, and gave them a little New England talk about 
- full salvation. They all stared at me, wondering who 
the stranger could be who dared to break in upon their 
regular order of conducting ameeting. I narrated how 
we managed our social meetings in New England, and 
felt some of the good spirit prompting me, and before I 
closed I had the meeting entirely under my control, and 
at the close such a shaking of hands was scarcely ever 
witnessed. I soon after arrived at my destination, stop- 
ping over night at Cleveland, where we found company 
going West. 

In 1824, Indianapolis was a howling wilderness, the 


244 FROM POVERTY TO PLENTY; OR, — 


hunting ground for wild game. The place had just 


been laid out as the seat of government; trees just 


felled, and stumps stood as thick in the streets as in the — 


fields ; but now I found a city with twenty thousand in- 
habitants. This city is now the centre for nearly all 
the Western rail-roads. Now one does not think it 


much of a trip to go West, even as far as St. Louis, or 


even California. Forty years ago when one started to 
go as far as Cincinnati, the dangers that surrounded the 
way were such, that it was. doubtful if he ever arrived. 

While I was at Indianapolis I was introduced to 
Bishop Ames, and other prominent Methodists. I met, 
also, Brother Taylor, the California Street Preacher. He 
was selling a history of his life to raise funds to pay off a 
debt he had incurred in building a church for the sea- 
men. He and his wife would take their stand in the 
square and very soon sing together a congregation. 





One object of my visit to this place was to find the 


old log-cabin at which I stopped with my ‘linsey-— 


woolsey” in 1824; but no trace of it remained, and 
the oldest inhabitant could not locate it, such radical 


| 


changes had taken place. What wonderful changes — 


take place in a few years in these western cities. As 


: 
: 
, 


great changes occur in us, it is likely, but we do not so — 


readily observe them. 
I was absent some two weeks, visiting Lawrenceburg, 
on the banks of the Ohio, the place where I landed with 


: 


my dory, many years ago; then a small town compared ~ 


' 


: 


THE LIFE OF DAVID SNOW. 245 


to what it is at present, though it has not grown with 
the rapidity of Cincinnati or St. Louis. I sJuud it full 
of distilleries making whiskey, and raising hogs, which 
-were fed on the refuse corn after the whiskey was all 
pressed out of it. It makes one sick at heart to see the 
staff of life converted into such a death-dealing agent, 
instead of being used, as nature intended, to prolong 
life, and impart comfort to the race. 

On my return I stopped at Cincinnati and Baltimore, 
having spent about two weeks in looking over the 
ground where thirty years ago I labored hard and fared 
hard. It does one good to recount the past, — unless it 
be mixed with sin, —and consider the causes of grati- 
tude. 

On the third of March, Father Patten, the oldest 
_ member of Bromfield-Street Church, died, aged seven- 
_ ty-eight years. He was a good man, and died in peace, 
_ saying that he was ready to depart and be with Jesus. 
__ How important that we be ready, for we know not the 
day nor the hour of death’s coming. : 

I heard Father Taylor preach in Bromfield Street, 
about this time, from the text, *‘God so loved the 
world,” etc. He remarked, that some forty years ago, 
a sailor boy, with a glazed hat in hand, might have 
been seen in the body of this church. He heard a gos- 
pel which fell with power upon his sunburnt brow, and 
for the first time his heart trembled, and all around him 
seemed to shake. He surrendered and a free pardon 


246 FROM POVERTY TO PLENTY; OR, 
was granted. Soon after, he commenced preaching the 
the same blessed gospel to his fellow-men, and some — 
years later to his fellow-seamen, in Methodist Alley, at 
North End, now Hanover Avenue; then in the Brick 
Church in North Square, formerly called Court Square, 
on account of the courts being held there, ete. 

Father Taylor put all his strength into his sermons, 
and would frequently say he had to preach to a new 
congregation every Suiday, and that some one or 
more were hearing him for the last time. His look, his: 
manner, and subdued tones of voice, on this occasion, so 
unlike his former boisterous tones, could not fail to move 
all hearts, and at times we all felt as though he might 
never be heard again in that desk. Father Taylor was 
one of Nature’s noblemen. He had but few equals in 
originality of thought, and graphic description. He, at 
times, was like an untamed lion, and then as loving and 
tender as a lamb. He was frequently sarcastic, and 
would give utterance to sentiments one could never for- 
get. Like many others, he lacked good judgment, and 
was in some sense a mere child. It might be said of 
him, that he was better for war than for safe counsel. 
He had warm friends and bitter enemies. I attended 
his meetings for some two years when we resided at 
the North End, and, take him for all in all, I never 
knew his equal for managing a social meeting, when he 
was really in the spirit. He was so constituted, how-— 
ever, that he must be captain, mate, and all hands. 


THE LIFE OF DAVID SNOW. 247 


Though independent himself, he did not like to see it 
_ inothers. He could never endure dictation from any 
one. He will, no doubt, have many stars in his crown 
of rejoicing, having been instrumental in saving many 
a poor sailor. He had more influence over this class 
than any other man I ever knew. Now that he is gone 
there is no one yet found to make good his place. 

The Methodists about this time organized a Historical 
Society, and I was elected treasurer. This we thought 
_ a grand move by our church, to collect all the old doc- 
uments, and incidents of our early history, and have 
them bound in a volume as a matter of reference ; such 
as relate to the planting of Methodism in New England ; 
and, in time, to open a room free to all who desire to 
become acquainted with all the incidents connected with 
our denomination; which, as a people, would tend to 
bind us together and stir our souls by reading of the 
sufferings and toils of our fathers, in planting in this 
Western world the doctrines of John Wesley, called of 
God, as many believe, to preach a free and a full salva- 
tion. 

MY BANKING LIFE. 


I have before stated that I was elected a director of 
the Bank of North America. In the month of August, 
1859, on the death of Mr. Crockett, I was elected pres- 
ident of this bank, with a salary, at my own request, 
of five hundred dollars. My predecessor was paid two 


248 FROM POVERTY TO PLENTY; OR, Z 


thousand, but was not worth five hundred. The capi- 
tal stock of the bank was seven hundred and fifty 
thousand dollars, and it was my purpose to make it a 
first-class paying institution. The stock rose in value 
very soon from three-and-a-half to seven-and-a-quarter, 


making a difference of over twenty-two thousand dol-_ 


lars to the stock-holders. 

Several of our former directors had failed in business, 
and having settled up with their creditors, were anxious 
to come back and occupy their former positions. Mr. 
Nickerson and myself objected, as they were large 
money borrowers. But before the meeting in Novem- 
ber, for the election of directors, they had, unknown to 


Nickerson and myself, been active in procuring proxies, 
and at the election we were both turned out, and they’ 


elected themselves. The result of this action was, that 
the stock fell from one hundred seven-and-a-quarter to 


one hundred one-and-three-fourths. This was a bad 


job for the stockholders, who gave their proxies into 
their hands. But so things are done sometimes when 
money borrowers get hold of the money-strings. Some 
of our friends advised that we go to work and buy up 






the stock and turn them out, which we could have done ; 


but, upon more mature reflection, we concluded not to 
do it, but to start another bank. The books were 
opened, and in three months, — from November, 1859, 
to February, 1860,— we had seven hundred thousand 
dollars subscribed, and six hundred and fifty thousand 


THE LIFE OF DAVID SNOW. 249 


paid in, — about three hundred thousand of which I took 
and secured myself, — and the Bank of the Republic in- 
augurated and doing business next door but one to the 
old bank, and bidding fair to be one of the best banks 
in Boston. -It has left the Bank of North America far 
in the rear. So much for pluck, and minding one’ S 
own business, and letting others alone. I had in this 
to pass through some severe trials, but I stuck to it like 
a good fellow, not relaxing an inch, and I came out all 
right, and a good way ahead. One hardly knows what 
he can do until he is put to the test. But with right 
on his side, and integrity in his conduct, he will succeed, 
though the storm may rage and the winds blow. He 
will come out all right, if he does as Sumner exhorted 


Stanton, — ‘* stick !” 


We gained more friends and a 
better position than if we had bought up the controlling 
part of the stock of the old bank. This, of course, re- 
quired thought and constant care, but that is part of 
life, and if one thinks of going through this world in an 
easy-chair, he will doubtless find, before he goes far, 
that he is mistaken. I was elected president of the 
bank unanimously, with a salary of one thousand dol- 
lars per annum, which was all I asked. Matters were 
very pleasant, as much so as I could have desired. 
There was no friction whatever, such as was in the old 
bank; and I question if I ever could have made the 
Bank of North America what I have made the Bank of 
the eels. 


250 FROM POVERTY TO PLENTY; OR, 



















.After we got fairly under way, I was greatly relieved 
of my responsibility, and enjoyed my mind in religious 
matters to a degree I had not for some time. I hope 
when my work is done, as done it will be before long, 
I shall feel as though I had not lived in vain, and had 
been something more than an idler in God’s vineyard. 

March 15, 1868, I purchased at auction an old store, 
No. 3 Merchant’s Row, with about eighteen hundred 
feet of land, for the sum of seventy thousand dollars. 
Our directors took it off my hands, and on the seventh of ~ 
October commenced taking down the old byilding, and — 
erecting thereon a banking-house for the Bank of the 
Republic, to cost one hundred and twenty thousand — 
dollars. We found it very difficult to get a good foun- 
dation, as this part of Boston was once covered with 
tide water, and old logs and stones formed the founda- 
tion for wharves. We were obliged to dig ten feet to get — 
to solid earth. The bank occupies the spot where, for- — 
ty-five years ago, stood a store, the oceupant of which, 
trusted me, a perfect stranger, with a lot of butter, on 
four months. This circumstance has come to my mind 
frequently, and I have wondered how he could have ~ 
had so much confidence in a man he had never seen be- 
fore. But I paid the note before it beeame due. = 

July 1, we moved into our new banking-house. We — 
gave a strawberry collation to numerous invited guests, _ 
who seemed happy, and unanimously praised our new — 
quarters. | 


. 
} 


THE LIFE OF DAVID SNOW. 251 


‘The following address to the directors of the bank 
sets forth its history and condition. We insert it as 
delivered : — 


<< Directors of the National Bank of the Republic, — 


‘¢ GENTLEMEN, — For the vote just passed by your 
body, announcing the election of myself as President of 
this Bank, I give you, individually and collectively, my 
sincere thanks. Another year of our organization has 
passed, and we are commencing a new year. Weare all 
one year nearer that bourne from whence no traveller re- 
turns. We have doubtless learned much from our experi- 
ence which may aid us in the duties that may devolve upon 
us in the future. This Bank was organized in 1860, and 
commenced business with a capital of six hundred and 
fifty thousand dollars. We hada board of ten directors, 
two only of whom are with us to-day. At our last elec- 
tion, Mr. Jacobs and Mr. Chickering declined to be can- 
didates for re-election on account, mainly, of the poor 
state of their health. During the first two years we 
found it exceedingly difficult to pay our stock-holders 
a dividend of three per cent. semi-annually. Our’stock 
was sold as low as ninety dollarsashare. It was a dark 

day for banking. A crisis took place soon after the re- 
bellion commenced, and we had to carry some two hun- 
dred thousand dollars of suspended paper, and three of 
our directors failed. No one could tell, for a time, 


252 ‘FROM POVERTY TO PLENTY; OR, 


what to-morrow would bring forth. Bankruptey and : 
war were staring us in the face. 

‘Tt was the darkest day I ever saw for our country; 7 
for, if the rebellion had been successful, the North would 
have been over-run with slavery, and there would have 
been a Northern and a Southern Confederacy. The 
cause of all this was slavery ; to extend and perpetuate — 
it, caused the civil war. In 1864, we organized under 
the United States banking law and secured a circulation — 
of eight hundred thousand dollars, national currency, — 
which circulated all over the eountry ; to secure which — 
we deposited with the Government some nine hundred 
thousand dollars of its bonds, and we were assigned as a 
deposit bank, and became a government agent in the 
sale of its bonds. Then, as the sailors say, we began 
to range ahead. We commenced to pay four per cent. 
dividend, then five, and then six. This continued for 
some time, say until 1869, when there was considerable 
agitation in Congress about taking from the North some 
of its circulation to accommodate the South and West. 
To save what we had, we increased our capital to one 
million five hundred thousand dollars, and paid our. 
stock-holders twenty-five per cent. extra dividend, and 
reduced our surplus to two hundred and fifty thousand 
dollars. Soon after this we bought a lot on Merchants’ 
Row, and built our present banking-house, which cost — 
us about one hundred and twenty thousand dollars, on 
which there was a mortgage of twenty-six thousand dol- 





' 


THE LIFE OF DAVID SNOW. 253 


lars, which the mortgagee refused to have us pay, and 
on which we pay six per cent. We have been able to 
rent nearly all, except what the Bank uses, at a rental 
nearly sufficient to pay the interest on the cost. We 
started the Bank on the most economical basis. The 
highest salary paid was fifteen hundred dollars, to the 
cashier ; but, as our business increased, we raised the 
salary until we now pay our cashier five thousand dol- 
lars, and the other officers correspondingly. It should 
ever be kept in mind that the cashier should feel that 
he can live on his salary, and not be tempted to go out- 
side to deal in stocks, which has been the rock where 
most of our cashiers have been wrecked, as history will 


' fully corroberate. Our business has constantly increas- 


ed and has more than thribbled. It is not necessary 
for me to detain you by a more detailed account, inas- 
much as the history of the Bank is known to you all. 
Suffice it to say that the Bank is now in as sound and 
prosperous a condition as any other Bank in Boston, 
with only about thirty thousand dollars of over-due pa- 
per, the payment of which is only a matter of time; 
and, considering the amount of paper which has passed 
through the Bank annually, say over seven millions, 
one can come to no other conclusion than that: we have 


been fortunate, having passed through the Chicago and 


Boston fires without a dollar of suspended paper, ex- 
cept twenty-two hundred dollars of Dorr Parks’, which 4 


is now charged off; and to-day, so far as I am able to 
22 


254 FROM POVERTY TO PLENTY; OR, 


judge of the working of the Bank, we were never doing 


so well for our stock-holders as now. Our surplus, 
which was two hundred and fifty thousand dollars when 
we made our new stock in 1869, is now, with our earn- 
ings since October, over four hundred and seventy 
thousand dollars. 


I have the pleasure of congratulating the Board in 
having as good a corps of officers as can be found 


in any banking institution in this State; and they 
are, including the president, wedded to the interests 
of the Bank; and I am proud to believe them hon- 
est, industrious, and economical; and this is not, I 
think, saying more than their conduct merits, for when 
young men do well, they deserve the commendation of 
their employers. The one thousand dollars you so gen- 
erously authorized me to divide among them, as a gra- 
tuity, will stimulate them to build up a character such 

as will live after they are dead. A banking institution 
ig just what the directors and officers make it. It is 
not a machine which will run of itself. We must give 


to its management our best thoughts, and be constantly 


on the watch, for a bank, after all, is a sort of public 
institution, both at home and abroad, and when once 
established on a firm basis, will reflect credit on its 
managers. I am satisfied that by our united action the 
National Bank of the Republic will stand in Boston and 
elsewhere, as to its sound condition, so that none of us 
will be ashamed of it. 





THE LIFE OF DAVID SNOW. 255 


«<I embrace this opportunity to say that I am not — 
ungrateful for your cordial and unanimous support, and 
the confidence you have reposed in me; and while I re- 
main your president, you will find in me what my past 
history has ever shown me to be, — devotedly attached 
to the interests of the Bank; and, while I occupy my 
present position, I shall do the best that my poor abili- 
ties will admit. I shall give to its interests my best 
thoughts on finance and credit, irrespective of my own 
interest. The salary you allow me is not now, and 
never has been, wholly the motive power which has 
prompted me to employ the time I have devoted to the 
Bank, but above and beyond that, I am now, as ever, 
ambitious to make this institution second to none. 

‘¢Tt is a principle born in me never to engage in any 
enterprise, unless (by industry and perseverance, giv- 
ing to it my best tact and the talent I may possess) I 
can make it a success. 

<I glory in an ambition that will not yield until the 
goal is reached, if it is within the possibility of man to 
achieve. All that the directors or stock-holders can 
reasonably expect of mortal man, is to do the best he 
can. Mistakes may be made, both in judgment of pa- 
per and of men, I admit; yet to err is human, and to 
‘correct Divine. : 

*¢ In closing let me say, I entertain the kindest feel- 
ings towards you all, and if any word or act during the 
year has escaped my lips, as with the twang of the bow 


256 FROM POVERTY TO PLENTY; OR, : 


it is all fled and gone; and my prayer is that the year 


to come may increase our regards and friendships for 


each other, until we reach the place where no difier- — 


ences of opinion will be known.” 


A FREE CHURCH. 


About the year 1844, Lee Claflin and myself conceiy-_ 


ed the idea of establishing a free Methodist Church in 
Boston, —a church where the poor and the rich might 
worship without those caste distinctions necessitated by 


pewed churches. But neither of us being able then to — 


engage in the enterprise, it was, for the time, postponed. 


A few years later, Mr. Claflin again urged that the — 
enterprise be commenced, or the time for doing it would — 


pass away. Those having the work at heart would soon 
be dead, and others who might have the means, might 
not have the disposition. © 

In 1864 subscription paper was prepared by me, and 
the following sums were subscribed: David Snow, 
$12,000; Lee Claflin, $10,000 ; William Claflin, $2,000 ; 
George Plaisted, $1,000 ; and John Borrowseale, $1,000. 
About this time two important churches came into the 
market, — Rowe Street and Essex Street, —one for 
forty thousand dollars, and the other for fifty thousand. 
The Bromfield Street Church was, about this time, de- 


stroyed by fire, and an effort was made to purchase the — 


lot and erect a central free church on the old site; but 


the trustees being unwilling to sell, that project failed. - 


THE LIFE OF DAVID SNOW. 257 


The North Russell Street Church had for years been 
_ growing more feeble. Its members had moved away, 
and its location made it more and more uninviting, until 
it was difficult to secure a congregation of any size. In 
the Winter of 1863 there was serious talk of disband- 
‘ing the church. It was finally resolved to make an- 
other effort, and in the following Spring, Rev. Gilbert — 
now Bishop — Haven was appointed to the charge. Dr. 
Haskell, the Presiding Elder, urged the Quarterly Con- 
ference to make an effort to change their location, and 
thereby revive the church. ; i 
A church on Bowdoin Street, built for Dr. Beecher, 
was for sale, but before an application was made for it 
by our people, it was purchased by the Church of the 
Advent. That church being occupied by the Episcopa- 
lians, induced Grace, an old Episcopal Church, on 
Temple Street, to close their house. Mr. Otis Daniels, 
Mrs. Dr. Mason, widow of the late Rector, and Dr. 
Mason’s sister, were consulted, and expressed a willing- 
ness to sell the church for twenty-five thousand dollars. 
The brethren who had long been looking for a suitable 
location for a free church, and the proper time to com- 
_ mence such an enterprise, in view of the religious wants 
of the West End, now being abandoned by most of the 
Evangelical Churches, concluded to purchase Grace 
Church. Mr. Haven, the pastor of North Russell 
Street, entered into the work heartily and successfully. 
Isaac Rich offered to pay one-fifth of the sum if the 






258 FROM POVERTY TO PLENTY; OR, 


whole could be raised. Lee Claflin made the same ~ 
offer, on condition that one half the pews should be — 
free. In consultation with Mr. Claflin, I agreed to pay — 
the same as Messrs. Rich and Claflin, on condition that 
the whole be free. This was agreed to, and in a few — 
days twenty thousand dollars were raised. The bal- 
ance of the twenty-five thousand was soon raised, and 
the church secured. It was necessary to raise ten thou- — 
sand more to put the church in good condition, which 
sum was soon secured. 

The church was completed and dedicated without 
debt, Oct. 18, 1865, two years and a half from the time 
that North Russell Street began to make an effort to 
extricate themselves from what seemed a doomed con- 
dition. 

On the 16th of March, 1867, our church was partially 
destroyed by fire. It was damaged to the amount of 
nearly twenty thousand dollars. We accepted an invi- 
tation from the Bulfinch Street Unitarian Church to 
occupy their church each afternoon and evening. Our 
vestry was completed and opened for worship, May 12, 
and the following October the church was finished and 
re-opened. 

About this time a house was purchased for a parson- 
age, — No. 16 Temple Street, — for the sum of fourteen — 
thousand dollars, and the pastor, Rey William MeDon-. 
ald, moved into it, Nov. 11, 1867. Of the sum paid 
for the parsonage, I contributed four thousand seven 





THE LIFE OF DAVID SNOW. 259 


hundred and fifty dollars. Our church and parsonage 
were now free from debt, or the necessary amounts sub- 
scribed to pay the whole indebtedness, and a Free 


Church was opened for all classes, in which to worship 


_ God. 

Ihave most earnestly desired that this church, to 
which I have contributed so largely, should-be a model 
church in its high-toned spirituality, and in its zeal for 
the salvation of the poor as well as the rich. When 
it fails to accomplish this God-like work, it may, and 
doubtless will, go back to the pewed system, or do 
any thing else to make it respectable, but spiritual life 
it will not have. Dr. Wayland very truthfully says: 
‘¢ Let a church have nothing to rely on but its antiquity, 
its wealth, its conservatism, the piety of its found- 
ers, its polar distance from all excitement and irregulari- 
ties, and the social position of the members of its soci- 
ety, and though it may have avery respectable standing 
with the world, it is recorded in the book which shall 
one day be opened, ‘ A church, having a name that it 
liveth, and is dead.’” 

In 1872, it was judged to be for the interest of reli- 
gion, at the North and West end, that the Hanover 
Street and Grace Churches be united, and that they 
occupy the church edifice on Temple Street. The North 
End has largely passed into the hands of foreigners, and 
quite lost to Protestantism, as the Protestant element 
has moved southerly. About all the real estate of 


260 FROM POVERTY TO PLENTY; OR, 






Grace Church was transferred to the First Methodist 
Episcopal Church. This produced a strong opposition 
from the preachers. They questioned our right to 
transfer the property without the consent of the Con- 
ference. The trustees took the responsibility, but the 
wisdom of the change has not as yet been fully demon- 
strated. I trust it may be for the best. 


A REMARKABLE RELIGIOUS BLESSING. : 

I had for years been vacilating between high and — : 
fear, as to the possibility of entering into a state of 
perfect love while in the flesh; though surrounded by — 
those who believed in and professed to enjoy that great | 
blessing, I still doubted. I was unable to make the 
distinction between absolute and Christian perfection, ~ 
and thought, with many conscientious people, that one 
could not live without sin. I somehow did not believe — 
in the experience, though I did believe in the theory, — 
as I could not understand how we could enter the abodes — 
of the blessed without purity of heart; forgetting at” 
the same time that it is by faith and not by works of 
righteousness. 

Oh, the misery of that fluctuating state of trust al 
doubt! Sometimes near receiving the promised bless-_ 
ing, then swinging off, far off, into the mazes of de-— 
spair. I had lived in this way for years, till one morn- 
ing, in the month of December, 1866, about six o’clock, — 


THE LIFE OF DAVID SNOW. 261 


the light of peace dawned upon my heart, and I received 
“the full baptism of joy which I had so long sought. I 
had been stopping on this side of Jordan, fearing to 
pass over, but now I entered the good land. It was in 
the form of a vision. I seemed to be away from home, 
in a strange place, and among strangers. All at once 
‘I seemed to arouse from a deep meditation, in which I 
had been completely abstracted in thought from every- 
thing of an earthly nature, and left the house at which 
I was stopping, with an earnest desire to find a certain 
religious meeting which I seemed to be impressed was 
then in session, not far off. As I passed along, looking 
down, as my habit is when in deep thought, I came to 
‘something that lay berore me in the shape of a cross, 


with this inscription : «‘ The Christian’s bread and water 


are sure.” I reached down, took it in my hand, and 
instinctively placed it on my forehead. It seemed to 
adhere to my flesh, and I proceeded on, making fre- 
_ quent inquiries for the place I was anxious to find. I 
met several groups of people, all of whom seemed to 
regard me curiously, and after I passed, would turn, 
and with great interest in their manner, look after me. 
I did not then realize that it was the cross on my fore- 
head that attracted them. A man who had the appear- 
~ ance of a clergyman came up and invited me to go with 
him to his meeting. I answered, ‘‘ No, that was not the 
place for me. Iwas in pursuit of another place.” Just 
then another man came up, dressed in military costume, 


262 FROM POVERTY TO PLENTY}; OR, 







and spoke to me very affectionately, and said, ‘* I know 
where you wish to go: I am going there myself;” and 
invited me to accompany him. The moment I touched 
his arm to go with him, a thrill of inexpressible joy 
went through my whole being. A peace came to my 
poor heart such as it had never before experienced. It 
seemed like a river, an ocean, of love. It went all over 
me like fire shut up in my bones, and immediatelyT 
cried out at the top of my voice, ‘* Glory! glory! hal- 
lelujah!” and that was the language of my soul, noth- 
ing more, nothing less. I was full of glory, completely 
full, every part of me. Oh, how happy that hour was to 
me! IfI opened my mouth it would come out. When 
I arrived at the house, it was full of people. As J 
went in, all looked at me with smiling faces, and seemed 
to say, ‘‘ Glory! glory! hallelujah!” 

So I kept on in this strain till I was aroused as from 
a most delightful vision ; and even then it was nothing 
but ‘‘ Glory !”— the very same power as before. Then 
came a flood of tears. If any one has studied the philos- 
ophy of tears, or weighed a sigh, he can understand — 
what I mean; but I cannot describe it. I remained in : 
this state through the day. Brother McDonald, my pas- — 
tor, came in to see me in the afternoon. He understood — 
it. I was so full of glory I could scarcely give utter- — 
ance to what I wanted to say. I could only say, — 
‘‘ Glory!” and he rejoiced with me, and the room was 
full of glory. I cannot tell how much of heaven there — 


THE LIFE OF DAVID SNOW. 263 


was in that room at that time; but there was enough to 
banish all doubts from my mind. 

I related this experience at our next meeting ; — how 
God had baptized my poor heart. There was no effort 
required ; utterance was given from a full heart, and all 
present seemed much impressed and interested. Oh, 
_ what happy hours were those! I did not long continue 
in that extreme joyous state — my poor body could not 
have borne it; but it settled forever all my unbelief in 
the reality of the baptism of fire. All may not receive 
it in just the way I did. That striking manifestation 
was necessary for me, because I had been so long in 
the clouds of doubt and fear, halting between two 
opinions. I know there are many persons in just that 
condition, and I would say to them and to all who know 
me, Iam no fanatic. This experience was no play of 
the imagination or feelings, but I was just as conscious © 
of the change wrought in my heart that morning as 
I was of my conversion forty years ago, down on 
Cape Cod. Like a brilliant light, its memory has fol- 
lowed me through six years; and, finally, I expect it 
will go with me ‘‘ through the valley of the shadow of 
death ;” and when freed from the trammels of this poor 
body, I reach the other shore, I shall then see that it 
was but a faint foretaste of the everlasting joy of the 
redeemed in the presence of the Lamb. 

I spoke of this baptism Dec. 3, at the BE 


264 FROM POVERTY TO PLE 


meeting, and at our prayer meeting, 2 
‘South prayer meeting. Some, I ¢ ou 
and some believed. My prayer is tk 
me in the hollow of his hand. 





CHAPTER XIII. 
SCRAPS FROM MY DIARY. 


N concluding this imperfect sketch of my life, I will 
transcribe a few of my thoughts on passing events, 
as I recorded them at the time. They are brief and 
more or less fragmentary and disconnected ; but they 
show that in the midst of business I was not only alive: 
to those events, many of which have become historic, 
but that I made record of the same. In looking over 
these records I am convinced that every man would de- 
rive real pleasure from a perusal of notes made in the 
midst of the whirl of a business life. Every young man 
should keep a diary; and if he is not personally inter- 
ested in it, his friends who come after him will be, un- 
less his life is worthless to himself and to society. 


March, 1860.—The Spring opens finely, business 
prospects fair, and freights improving for ships. I have 
‘sold one-fourth of ship Nauset to Captain Elliot, for 
fourteen thousand dollars; a bad sale, as it proved. 
He lost the ship the first voyage, by carelesness, and I 


lost about twenty thousand dollars. 
23 265 


266 FROM POVERTY TO PLENTY; OR, 


This Summer I built a new ship of one thousand 
tons, the best one I ever built. This I have done as — 
much for employment for myself and clerks, as to make 
money. ie 

I was chosen a delegate to the business men’s prayer- 4 







meeting in Philadelphia, from the Boston prayer meet- 
ing, held at the Old South Chapel, and such cordiality 
and Christian feeling I never realized before. Here I 
met delegates from nearly every part of the Union. 
Eighteen states were represented, and much interest 
was expressed by all present. It does seem as though 
this movement was of God, and destined to break down 
the barriers between Christian denominations. ° , 
The interest in the Old South continues, and good i is ; 
resulting from the daily union meetings. Elder Knapp, 
a Baptist Evangelist, is holding meetings at Tremont 
Temple daily. a 
One of my ships has taken a charter to take a Toad 
of negroes to Liberia, for twelve thousand dollars. 
The Republican party have nominated Abraham Lit 
coln, of Illinois, for President. There is now a gre 
excitement about dissolving the Union, on account of 
slavery. q 
We have had a visit this month from the Prince of — 
Wales, heir apparent to the British throne. He is 
about nineteen years old, rather boyish looking. He — 
rode past my house on Tremont Street. He is not very — 
intelligent looking or prepossessing. He had some dozen — 


THE LIFE OF DAVID SNOW. 267 


of the nobility in his suite, — among them Lord Lyons 
and the Duke of Newcastle. It is said that it costs 
him one hundred thousand dollars per month to travel. 
The fact that he might be King of England at any time 
created considerable excitement in the community to 
see a live king in embryo. There seemed after all to 
be a great amount of man worship. He received a 
welcome by Governor Banks at the State House, and 
the State militia were ordered out and paraded the 
Common. The Mayor and Governor accompanied him 
and his suite to Portland, where he embarked for Eng- 
land, after a long and extensive travel in the United 
States, visiting her principal cities. If he lives to be- 
come king of England, may he be a good man, and do 
all that he can to promote the best interests of his peo- 
ple. It is said that he visited the tomb of Washington, 
and while there planted two trees, by the request of the 
proprietor of the homestead. As he is very fond of 


dancing 


g, a great ball was gotten up at almost every 


place he visited, and the ladies were very fond of him 
as a partner, thinking it a great honor to dance with 


the Prince of Wales, though some are of the opinion 
that it would be far more honorable to be in alliance 


with and honored by the Prince of Life. 


April 12, 1861. — The ‘ cotton States” have declared 
themselves independent, and are now in open rebellion. 
This has a bad look, and civil war is now opening up 


268 FROM POVERTY TO PLENTY; OR, 


















before us. Fort Sumter has been taken by the Soutl 
with force of arms, which is the beginning of trouble, and 
we are really ina state of war. Some two thousand guns 
were fired before it surrendered. ‘The President h: 
issued his proclamation, calling for seventy-five 
and men. Washington is the next place neat he 
attacked. A large number of officers of all ¢ cs 
have resigned, as they are mostly from the Bowie YS 
A company of sixty men have passed the window 
where I sit, on their way to Faneuil Hall, a place of 
rendezvous. May God protect the right. It se am 
too bad that a country like ours, the only free gov ern- 
ment in the world, should be broken up on accout 
that cursed sin of slavery. War must throw us k 
in civilization and morals, what it has taken us a hun 
dred years to gain. It was always painful to look upon” 
civil war in the old countries, but we never thou ol i 
‘would come so near our own hearth-stone ; but if: hi 
war shall rid us of that cursed traffic in human flesh, 
and humble our pride as a nation, it may after all be a 
blessing in disguise. Be 


April 23.—The whole North within a short time 
has been aroused as from a sleep. All parties, t 
man, are united in sustaining the flag of our nation. 
Old Virginia has seceded, and Harper’s Ferry and G 2 
port Navy-yard have been taken by the rebels, and 
millions of property destroyed. On the 2d, there wer Ke 


_ uw 
wien 





THE LIFE OF DAVID SNow. 269 


fourteen thousand troops in Washington, and General 
Scott was of the opinion that he could save the city. 
But I must not follow the history of the rebellion, as 
a fuller account can be found in most of our periodicals 
of the day. All the talk is about the war. People are 
watching the telegraph for news. Business, except in 
the war department for army sufferers, is about sus- 
pended. People go about the streets with downcast 
looks, not knowing what will come out of this civil war, 
whether we shall have a country or not. Some think 
they had rather belong to the British Government than 
to the Southern Confederacy. The banks have come 
to the rescue, and have offered the government three 
million dollars to sustain its credit. Men gather in 
knots on the corners of the streets to tell or review the 
latest news. Government has blockaded all our South- 
ern ports. Our commerce is about at an end. Priva- 
teers are on the ocean, and no ship is safe. Letters of 
marque have been offered by the president of the 
Southern Republic to any one who will accept them. 
It seems as though all south of Pennsylvania are full 
of secession, A panic in finance is daily expected. 
Everything is unsettled, though there never has been so 
much specie in the country as now. There was never 
‘so much excitement as now since I have been on the 
stage of action. A deadly conflict, we fear, will soon 
take place. At the Old South prayer-meeting the love 
of country will now and then crop out in prayer and 


270 FROM POVERTY TO PLENTY; OR, 





exhortation. Our country is now full of soldiers drill- 
ing forwar. Such a military sight was never witnessed — 
before in Boston. All bank stocks are down one-tenth % 
below their value; in fact, every kind of property is — 
depressed. If a man was worth one hundred thousand — 
dollars in January, 1861, he may mark it down to 
seventy-five thousand. The war spirit is so prevalent 
that the religious element is subordinate; but it looks — 
now as if our country was rent in twain by civil war. — 
Father and son against each other in deadly conflict. — 
Civil war, the world over, is not only destructive to — 
human life, but awfully demoralizing. . 2 


June 5. — A regiment from Maine is now passing my 
house, bound for the seat of war. As I looked at them, 
contemplating how much they would suffer, ‘and that — 
many would never see home again, a tear would inyol- fi 
untarily start from my eyes ; and what is very singular, — 
showing the patriotic feeling in the community, there — 
are more volunteers offering themselves than Govern- — 
ment can accept, for want of military supplies to equip — 
them. 

July 23.—To-day gloom has been cast over our — 
country, by a defeat at Bull Run, and retreat to Alex- 
andria with great loss. 


Sept. 27. We have now two large armies in the 


THE LIFE OF DAVID SNOW. 271 


field, said to be nearly three hundred thousand men on 
both sides. One third of our merchants have failed, 
as the South have entirely ignored their indebtedness 
to the North, which amounted to over one hundred 
million dollars. The North have now completely 
blockaded all the Southern ports. Kentucky and Mis- 
souri still hold with the North. A battle is soon looked 
for on the Potomac; if so, blood will flow like rivers. 
Sept. 30. —We have had a visit from Prince Napoleon 
and his wife, Princess Clotilde, daughter of King 
Emanuel of Italy, formerly of Sardinia. He arrived 
here in his yacht from some of our southern ports. 
His object, no doubt, is to report to Napoleon Third 
the condition of things in this country. The city en- 
tertained him at Music Hall with a concert by twelve 
hundred children from our common sehools. After 
visiting Lowell and the Navy Yard, he left for St. 
_ John’s. So much for an entertainment for a little of 
the would-be royal blood. 


Oct. 22. — A battle is reported on the Potomac River 
near Leesburg, and our army, under General Banks, 
has been repulsed by a superior force. There were 
some two hundred killed. 

Our crops are good. Over four million dollars worth 
of breadstuff cleared from New York for Europe. 

Captain Lufkin, master of the ‘‘ Addie Snow,” in 


272 FROM POVERTY TO PLENTY; OR, 







coming out of the harbor, went ashore and was lost. — 
She was one of my best ships, and my loss was some 
twelve thousand dollars. So property goes. 

Our country is bleeding at every pore, and what will 
be the end of this civil war none but God can tell. — 
War has now been raging for eight months, and thous- 
ands have lost their lives by disease and in battle. The 
struggle between the North and South is terrible. 
The South say they will never yield to the Yankees, — — 
will sooner die. The good Lord haye mercy on us! 
The South have several privateers on the Atlantic, mak-— 
ing sad havoc of our navigation, and as I did not like 
the idea of having my ships, which had cost me so 
much, burnt or sunk, I sold out to Nickerson & Co., 
and invested in real estate. The absorbing topic is 
war, war, and not much else is before the public. My 
time is mainly confined to the Bank. | 4 


Feb., 1862.—We have now some six hundred thous- 
and men in the field. 
The banks have suspended specie payment, though ; 
there is as much specie in the country as ever, and the 
country is flooded with paper money as a substitute — 
for specie. ‘ 
The winter has been very severe, —a storm about ‘ 
every other day for two months. “4 
Our army seems fo meet with success, and I believe — 
the Lord is on our side, and that his people will yet go — 


THE LIFE OF DAVID SNOW. 273 


free. I really hope to live to see the end of this cursed 
rebellion. 

Our insurance offices have suffered by a large fire on 
Sargent’s Wharf. One million dollars’ worth of prop- 
erty destroyed. 


April, 1862. —The President issued a proclamation 
abolishing slavery in the District of Columbia, and 
Washington is a free city, —no more buying and sell- 
ing human flesh. 

After I sold out my navigation, I cast about to see 
how to invest my money until the close of the war, 
when I purposed to invest in navigation again. On the 
24th of April I bought an estate on Washington Street, 
corner Harvard Court. Strange as it may seem, I had 
long coveted this property. Passing and re-passing it 
daily, I considered it a valuable piece of property, and 
often expressed a desire to own it, though I never 
thought I should. This property had been in the 
Hughes family for two hundred years, and the timber 
from which it was built was cut on the same lot; and 
adjoining it was the old Province House. To my sur- 
prise, as I took up the paper one day, I saw this very 
estate advertised at auction. I went to the owner and 
offered him seventy-five thousand dollars; but he held 
it at one hundred thousand, at which he said it was 
taxed. There was a large company present, and the 
bidding was quite animated. I had made up my mind 



























274 FROM POVERTY TO PLENTY; OR, 


to buy it, and buy it I did, at seventy-five 
two hundred and fifty dollars. I had some onda hat I 
had ordered home from Liverpool, which I sold at ty a 


are 


and a half per cent. premium, and paid cash down, and 
the property was mine. This took about all that I} ad 
realized from the sale of my navigation, and it proved 
a good purchase, for to-day the land is worth forty 
dollars per foot. 

Money is plenty at four and five per cent. on - 
doubted paper. Some think the rebellion will be ut 
down in sixty days. If it is in twelve months I shall 
be rejoiced. New Orleans has been captured with all 
its forts; still the South are stubborn and will not 
yield; -and nothing but military power will hu ut le 
them and bring them to submit. The South are all o: : 
of white paper, and are compelled to use brown. 
they must feel how dependant they are upon the Nort 
for supplies, even to the comforts of life.. The 
ern army is now within four miles of Washingtor 
Banks’ having fallen back, pressed by a superior fore ~ 
The uncertainty of the war prevents any enterprise ry 
the people. Money is a complete drug. Banks’ arm | 
has been strengthened and he is now advancing o 


hey 


Winchester. Things look better to-day. New Orle: ns 
is now under martial law — Gen. Butler in command. — 
In the re-taking of New Orleans the rebels burned and i 
destroyed all they could. The ship John S. Jarvis, for- . 
merly owned by me, nearly loaded with cotton, was , 

ee 


“4 
: f, “a 


THE LIFE OF DAVID SNOW. 275, 


burnt, laying at the city wharf. I hope this awful 
state of things will soon come to an end. 


June 19.— My health is fair, and I have made up 
my mind to build on my lot on Washington Street, 
though it looks rather discouraging. To build a good 
store and have the rebels take possession of Boston and 
burn it, is not very agreeable. Vessels are arriving 
_ from New Orleans loaded with cotton and sugar. We 
now have command of nearly every port on the sea- 
coast. It is painful to see the soldiers on our streets 
with one arm or one leg, but such is the effect of cruel 
war; and yet in the midst of carnage and blood, nature 
smiles and we have the promise of a good crop; but 
there is a lack of business. We have many men who 
_ are idle, and idleness is the bane of society. Reports 
come to-day of a terrible battle before Richmond ; loss 
on both sides, fifteen thousand, and the President has 
ordered out three hundred thousand more men. Specie 
eighteen per cent. premium. 

Religion is at a low ebb. The war-fever has taken 
possession of all minds. I paid to-day one hundred 
dollars towards a new regiment. Some are quite des- 
pondent and fear for our country, and still others are 
more hopeful; yet there is wailing and heart rending 
on account of the war. 

In tearing down the old building on Washington 
Street there was a great demand for the oak timber to 
make into mementoes of the olden times. 


276 FROM POVERTY TO PLENTY. 


















It seems strange to me that in the nineteenth centur 
of the Christian era there are men so corrupt as to turn 
this beautiful country, sacred and secured to us by ot 
Pilgrim Fathers, as a land where men worship God 
under their own vine and fig-tree unmolested, into ¢ \ 
field of blood and carnage, all for political power, and 
to sustain slavery. - 

There is now a move to extend the railroad to 
Orleans, my native town. A few years ago one might 
well have said, in view of such an enterprise, as 
one of old, ‘‘ Ifthe Lord would make windows in hea) 
en,” then might a railroad be built to Orleans, ei rhty 
miles from Boston. 


March, 1863. — My new store is finished and let fo 
eight thousand dollars per annum and taxes. Gold ha: 
gone up to fifty and sixty per cent. premium. I am 
satisfied that I sold too soon. Cotton, which the South 
used to say was ‘‘ King,” is selling at eighty cents pe 3 
rn and cotton cloth, which we used to buy for eig 1 


ference at Waxteii; R. if Bishop Janes presiledya unit 
preached one of the best sermons I ever heard. — 

The work of God in Bromfield Street, where I+ wor 
ship, is anything but satisfactory to one who loves” 
Christ. I trust I may have grace given me to say, “= : 
live, yet not I, but Christ liveth in me,” and that * 
will and to do of his own good pleasure. ‘ 


THE LIFE OF DAVID SNOW. 277 


No bright prospect ahead of puttiug down the rebel- 
lion. We are suffering terribly for the sin of slavery. 
If the South should conquer, our country will be one 
of slave aristocracy, — wealth on one side, and slavery 
and ignorance on the other; no middle class as now. 


May 12, 1863.— A great battle has been fought by 
Gens. Hooker and Lee, and twenty-five thousand men 
are said to have been killed and wounded. All kinds 
of goods and provisions are fifty per cent. higher than 
they were before the war. This makes it hard for sala- 
ried men. We are living in very exciting times. No 
one seems to know what to-morrow will bring forth. 

I saw a sight to-day, never before seen in our streets. 
A regiment of blacks, one thousand strong, officered 
by white men, passing through the city, from Readville, 
to embark for Port Royal, S.C. They created much 
excitement as they passed down South Street; music, 
cheering, and waving of handkerchiefs by the ladies 
from the windows, cheering them on. Eight years ago 
a black man was tried in our courts for running away 
from his master. A chain was drawn around our Court 
House to prevent the populace from taking him from the 
officers who had charge of him. He was found guilty 
of running away to gain his liberty, and was sent back 
to his master in the South. I was present when he was 
marched down State Street to the end of Long Wharf, 
and put on board the U. §. revenue cutter. The State 

24 






















278 FROM POVERTY TO PLENTY; OR, — ‘a 
Militia were ordered out to prevent a rescue. It was a 
sorry day for Boston. In the days of the Revolution,-— 
a black man sealed our freedom with his blood in front — 
of the Old State House, where he was shot down t = 
British soldiers; now a black man is sent from a free — 
State into bondage. To-day black men are being en- — 
listed to protect the North from becoming Slave States. e 
_ LT hope regiment after regiment will come to the a 
cue, that the white man may yet acknowledge his obli- 
gation to the race he has so long held in bondage. It 
would seem, after all, that there is an overruling powe ro 
in this war to free the bondman. . 
June 3.—To-day J. J. Whiting, one of the directors of — 
our Bank, had an attack-of apoplexy and died in eight 
hours. What an admonition to all his associates. By his 
industry he had accumulated a fortune. He had k is 
married but a few months, and it would seem that he h: 
much to live for. In the prime of life, stricken down % 
ina moment; death came, and all his prospects for hap- 


~ 


piness here were blasted. The board passed suit. 
resolutions and attended the funeral in a body. I hope ‘ 
this sad and sudden death will prove a warning to all, — 
and that we may realize it is not all of life to live, d 
that this world can never satisfy the longings of t 
soul after immortality. a % ¢, i 


July 4.—Gen. Lee, with an army of one hundred 4 


THE LIFE OF DAVID SNOW. 279 


thousand, has crossed the Potomac, with a view of at- 
tacking Washington in the rear. The cquntry was 
thrown into a tremendous excitement. The President 
called out two hundred thousand men for two months. 

The two armies met at or near Gettysburg, where a 
terrible battle was fought. It seemed as though the 
fate of the country hung upon the decision of this bat- 
tle. An overruling Providence prevailed, and the 
rebels met a signal defeat. Over twenty thousand 
rebels, with a large amount of military stores, were cap- 
tured. It is said to be the most terrible battle yet 
fought. Lee retreated across the Potomac. We then 
began to breathe again, and take courage. The rebels 
became so bold that they entered Portland harbor in 
the night and cut out a revenue cutter. 

July 14. It proves that Lee’s army was badly cut 
up, and not less than twenty thousand men were killed 


and missing. 


July 23, 1864. — The risk of navigation is such that 
owners of ships are selling out to foreigners at heavy 
losses. Fires have lately taken place. Fifty millions 
dollars worth of property destroyed in New York, and 
some in Boston. 

England is indirectly aiding the South by building her 
ships of war. They will find it is not easy to destroy 
the enterprise of Yankees. The recuperative powers 
of New England will soon regain what may be lost by 
war. 


280 FROM POVERTY TO PLENTY; OR, 


The surrender of Lee’s army to General Grant broke 
the rebellion, and the proud Southern army had to ae- 
knowledge themselves beaten, and Southern pride com- 
pletely subdued and humbled. < 

God has dealt graciously with me and my family. 
No sickness nor death has come to our home, for which 
IT am truly grateful. The Old South prayer-meeting is 
still interesting. 


May 29, 1865. —Held a meeting at Tremont Temple, — 
on the subject of revivals. Dr. Kirk, Judge Smith, 
and others, addressed the meeting. “ae 

I bought some real estate on Federal Street, and 
purpose to erect a store thereon. There seems to be a 
demand for stores, and ten per cent. on eost is freely : 
offered. B. F. Prescott and Morton & Chesley have the — 
contract to build my sture at thirty-four thousand five 
hundred and thirty-five dollars. Gold, one dollar fifty; 
wages three to four dollars per day. 





Aug 15.— Am just home from camp-meeting ; had a 
good time. 


Aug. 17.—There has been a large convention at — 
Philadelphia, of the old line democrats and whigs, who 
have been out of office so long they want to get back. 

I sold all my stock in the insurance offices, as I have 
no great faith in them as a safe investment. 


7 
— eae 


THE LIFE OF DAVID SNOW. 281 


Oct. 30.— We took up our centenary collection in 
Grace Church. I gave five hundred dollars to the 
Biblical Institute. In the afternoon we took up a col- 
lection to buy a parsonage, and raised ten thousand 
dollars; I gave four thousand seven hundred and fifty 
dollars towards it. Isaac Rich, my old partner, gave 
seventy-five thousand dollars to Middletown College, 
and the Biblical Institute located near Boston. 

My health is fair, but I feel age creeping on, and I 
live easier than formerly. I am more and more satis- 
fied that there is safety to no one only in industry and 
economy. 

To-day is the anniversary of the Old South prayer- 
_ -meeting; only about forty present, quite a falling off 

from former years. 
The cares of this life press hard upon me at times, and 
I feel depressed in spirit, but not cast down. It isa 
constitutional difficulty with me; my sensitive nature 
is quick to feel unkindness. I love my Saviour because 
he first loved me, and now I feel that I am his entire- 
ly. I love at times to get near to Christ and feel 
as if I was embraced in his arms, and the warm gush 
of his love permeating my whole being, when I can 
rise up in his strength and run on until the welcome 
voice will sound in my ear, ‘*‘ Well done, good and 
_ faithful servant, enter thou into the joys of thy Lord.” 
The anniversary of the Wesleyan Association, that 
publishes ‘‘Zion’s Herald,” was held at Isaac Rich’s 


282 FROM POVERTY TO PLENTY; OR, 





house on Beacon Street. We had a good social time. 
One of our members was elected Mayor of Charles-— 
town. The poor, despised people, are coming up, and | 
no doubt we shall soon have some one of our number 
elected governor. The old order are forced to admit j 
that we are not all that poor people they were wont to : 
regard us when we first came to New England. 


Dec. 20, 1866.— We have had a convention of preach-— 
ers and laymen to consult on the best means to bring 
into action the lay element of the church. It continued — 
two days, and was held at Grace Church. It was really — 
good to look into the faces of such a body of Christians, 
“nearly two thousand in number, all intent and in earn- 
est to do something in their Lord and Master's vine- — 
yard ; and God seemed to smile upon them. <A photo- — 
graph likeness of this body was taken under the Old 
Elm Tree, on the Common. t 


Dec. 27, 1866. — This closes the year 1866. I still © 
remain as president of the Bank, though I have thought — 
it but justice to myself to resign; but I am so consti- é 
tuted that I must have something to do. 

On the 17th we had a tremendous snow storm, and 
it covered the ground four feet deep on a level. Sev- 
eral men lost their lives. I took out my horse and 
sleigh and went up to Concord Street for one of our 
family, and came near getting stuck in a snow-drift. I 


THE LIFE OF DAVID SNOW. 283 


_ was frightened, and thought what a terrible thing it 
would be to be covered up and frozen to death in a 
snow-bank in the city of Boston. J think I never saw 
so fearful a storm either on land or sea. EH. & A. 
_ Winchester, an old provision firm, have failed, and 
pay thirty cents on a dollar. There is more or less 
talk in Congress of taking away our circulation and 
compelling us to pay greenbacks for currency. This 
will produce a panic such as we never saw, if it becomes 
alaw. Ihave written to Mr. McCulloch, Secretary of 
the Treasury, on the subject, and to Mr. Hooper, our 
_ Representative to Congress from the Third District. 


~ Jan. 1, 1867. — All kinds of provisions very high. 
Coal, ten dollars; wood, fourteen; flour, seventeen ; 
butter, thirty cents; sugar, fourteen. 

If my family were all I could desire, I should feel as 
though my work was almost done. This is, no doubt, 
the feeling of all parents. They desire to live that they 
may be a guide to their children. 


Jan. 30.—The M. E. Church at Charlestown was 
- dedicated. This is the second dedication, as we have 
_ bought a house in the rear, and enlarged the church, 
raising it two-and-a-half feet. The sermon was by the 
Rev. J. A. M. Chapman. A service for the communion 
was given by Sister Noble, with a box, and presented 
by me. In the evening was the feast of the dedication, 


284 FROM POVERTY TO PLENTY; OR, 









which took place in the vestry. Some seyen hundred 
people were present. Tickets of admission were one 
dollar each. As president of the trustees I ga¥e 
keys to the pastor of the church to be dedicated t 
the worship of Almighty God. 


April, 1867.—Our beautiful church on Temple Street 
was nearly destroyed by fire on Monday evening, 
a store of mine, on Common Street, was also nearly 
destroyed. This is the first and only fire I ever hadi in 
any building of mine, in Boston or on the Cape. 4 

The steamer on board of which Addie and her hus- 
band took passage, arrived safely at Liverpool April 8. 
How wonderful! news from Europe in one hour, when > 
twenty years ago it took thirty days! Such is the 
progress and developement in the arts dnd sciences. 1 

I realize how much grace we need to live. I feel 
deeply anxious for all those who are near to me by the 
ties of consanguinity, that all may come on board the 
gospel ship, and be fully saved. 3 

T am having some trouble with Josiah Quincy, about 
his gutter setting on my wall. One day he agrees to re- 
move it, and the next he declines, and says he will pay — 
for its use ; and so matters stand, nothing settled, He 
is one of those men who are so made up that one cannot — 
tell where to find them. He can out-talk me altogether, — 
and I have come to the conclusion not to trust him 
unless I have it in black and white. 


= 


THE LIFE OF DAVID SNOW. 285 


The bill of impeachment against President Johnson 
_ was tried by Congress, but he was not convicted; so 
he remains in power. i 

‘Flour is twenty dollars per barrel; the highest I 
ever knew it. 


May 4.—The directors voted to raise my salary to 
four thousand dollars. This is a matter I have never 
pressed, as I was working for the interest of the Bank. _ 
I have ever been ambitious to make it a good paying in- 
stitution. 

The Allen estate sold to-day at auction for one hun- 
dred and eighty-seven thousand dollars. I bought the 
same property two years previous for two hundred and 
sixteen thousand dollars, for our bank, but the title 
was not satisfactory. 


May 20.—TI have just returned home from a visit 
to the old homestead on the Cape, where I was born. 
Elizabeth and Harry went with me. I stopped at Barn- 
stable, and visited the old farm I sold to my brother-in- 
law, Mr. Fish, when I fully decided to make Boston 
my place of residence, nearly forty years ago. I also 
visited, at Orleans, some of my old friends and rela- 
tives, and spent a night and a day with my sister. She 
seemed to think there was no place like old Cape Cod, 
especially Orleans. On this we did not agree, though 
it is pleasant to visit the spot occasionally where one © 

























= ‘ E) 
286 FROM POVERTY TO PLENTY; OR, 


' = 


was born. I walked among the trees I planted when : 
boy. I seemed to feel a pride in the fact that 11 r : 
son of the Pilgrim Fathers, and born on the soil wher 
lie the bones of the earliest settlers of the Cupe, frot 
whom I have descended ; but for forty years Boston ha 
been my home. I go back two hundred years and 
fancy I see that little acorn dropped into the soil from 
which has sprung up a forest of men; and the city 
of our habitation, Boston, has become one of the larg 
and most active of all our sister cities. I do not De 
lieve that God made the country and man made the 
town. A city exists as much by divine laws as th 
field or mountain. Its situation on some stream or 
- central location for trade, is no accident; for there i sa 
law which is eternal, viz.: production and exch — 
Take for instance the City of New York, at the j 
‘tion of the East and North rivers; or any spot so s 
ated, where activity and enterprise converge, the 
houses are a necessity ; progress demands it. i 
On my way home from Orleans, I stopped at B —- 
stable, and took a carriage to Cotuit, where I stoppe ved 
all night with Captain Childs, who had sailed in one ¢ of 
my ships called the ‘* Nauset.” Here I enjoyed ay rery 
pleasant visit. Cotuit Port is getting to be quite 
watering place. Mr. Hooper, member of Congress, 
has bought a place of Captain Crocker, near the Bay, 
and has laid out the grounds, and otherwise improved i it, 


so that it is very attractive as a summer residence, 
: ; 


THE LIFE OF DAVID SNOW. 287 


_ Others are selecting this as a place to spend the summer 
months. Forty-four years ago, when I supplied the 
only store (Mr. Crocker’s) with crackers, there were 
only six houses in the place ; now there are one hundred. 


June 12. — By invitation, went to Bristol and took a 
sail down Naragansett Bay, R. I. 

Real estate in Boston, I think, will advance, and I am 
half inclined to buy an estate on Federal and Matthews 
Street, at nine dollars per foot. 


July 6.—I have this day bought the above-named es- 
tate, five thousand one hundred and fifty feet, for forty- 
five thousand dollars, payable August 1. 

I have agreed to give five hundred dollars towards 
the Metropolitan Church, in Washington. The church 
is central, and Gen. Grant, Stanton, and others, are 
connected with this enterprise. 

Religious matters are not especially interesting just 
now. Business very dull; all are complaining of dull 
times. My experience has led me to reflect much on 
the way business is done in the city. Some merchants 
accustom themselves, when short by overtrading, to 
borrow of their neighbors ; and some, to my knowledge, 
are constantly in debt, and it takes all their time to look 
after finances, while their business is suffering for want 
of personal attention. 


August 12. —I started for our annual camp-meeting 


288 FROM POVERTY TO PLENTY; OR, 













at Yarmouth. On my return I took a trip to the Whi om 
Mountains. Elizabeth accompanied me. We had an 
abundance of rain. 


Oct. 14. — Rev. Newman Hall preached to a crow Jed 
house. He is a powerful preacher, and seems to be 
full of the Holy Ghost. ‘ 

There is great excitement in polities. The Demo-— 
crats have been out of office for some time, and they 
are anxious to get back again. President Johnson has 
fairly gone over to them. ‘ 

Dan and Addie have arrived safely home, for whi 
we are truly thankful. 


much pleased with their new quarters. Bishop Simp- 
son, Bros. McDonald and J. A. M. Chapman, dined : 
with me to-day. The Bishop preached at Grace Church — 
Sunday afternoon to a crowded house. : 

Thankgiving-day our children were home to dinner, ot 
reminding me of old times. We had a love-feast at 
Bromfield Street Church in the morning. It was a 
good time among God’s people. “<M 


Dec. 1. — Meeting of Congress. Able reports were 
presented from several of the heads of departments. 
The contractor of greenbacks is recommended to pledge _ 


THE LIFE OF DAVID SNOW. 289 


_ public faith to all the bondholders, and that it should 
be the object of legislation to get back to specie pay- 
ment, and that it could be done in twelve or eighteen 
months. This agrees with my own private opinion. 
_ Congress has passed a law ordering the Secretary to cur- 
- tail greenbacks ; consequently provisions will be as high 


as during the war. 


Dec. 17. — There is great excitement in the city to 
hear Dickens read his novels; and such is the feeling, 
that some have waited at Tremont Temple door all night, 
to get in at nine o’clock in the morning. Such was the 
crowd to get tickets that people could not get into the 
prayer-meeting held in the rooms of the Young Men’s 
Christian Association, in the second story. It seems as 
though Boston people generally are carried away to hear 
foreigners read or act on the stage. One morning as I 
was passing down street I witnessed one thousand peo- 
ple waiting to get into Tremont Temple to hear Dickens. — 
I considered it a disgrace to Boston; but such is human 
nature, — more are going in the broad road to ruin than 
in the narrow way to life eternal. If people were half 
as earnest to hear and accept the word of life, how soon 
would this world become a paradise. There seems but 
little interest in religion at present in the city. The 
mind is taken up with other things. 

Our bank directors gave me full power to purchase a 


block of stores on Washington Street, for the bank, but 
25 


















290 FROM POVERTY TO PLENTY}; OR, “a 


I did not succeed. I offered two hundred and seve} a 
five thousand dollars, but it was not accepted. . 


Feb. 10.— A convention of all the different board: 
of trade is now in session in Boston, and after matur 
consideration they voted unanimously that in the 
opinion government ought to contract the currency. | 
hope their action will not be without its effect upor 
Congress now in session. es a 

David Snow, Jr.,.has gone into the fish business with 
Freeman & Co., and I have furnished him with fifteen 
thousand dollars, one third of the capital, and I rust 
they will succeed. I have been sick with the diptheria, 


June 5. —I am some better, though not well. 

President Johnson was acquitted by one vote. 
moral influence of the country is against him. 

The convention to nominate a president and vice- 
president met at Chicago. Grant and Colfax are t ne 
nominees. 

A vote was passed by our legislature to build a br e 
to East Boston, and Governor Washburn vetoed it, an¢ | 
in my judgment his action is approved by the citiz ons 
of Boston. ae 

On my return from Manheim National Camp-mee ing 
I stopped at Newport a few days to cool off. It vas 


to kill a man, unless he was all gristle. Notwithstar d- 


‘THE LIFE OF DAVID SNOW. 291 


ing, some of my friends stood it out, though I am of 
the opinion that some of them injured their health and 
laid the foundation for diseases that will follow them to 
their graves. I question if we are called upon, even in 
a good cause, to injure our constitutions. The location 
for the camp-meeting was not wisely selected, as it is 
settled entirely by the Dutch, and it was the time of 
their harvest. They had no sympathy with the meet- 
ing, except to make all the money they could in selling 
their straw. 

I enjoyed the sea-bathing at Newport very much.. 
This place has become a favorite spot as a summer resi- 
dence. Some of ‘the wealthiest of New York and 
Boston have their cottages here. Some of the resi- 
dences cost three hundred thousand dollars, and so 
down to ten thousand. They have a great turnout in 
the afternoon. Part of a windmill is still standing 
here, which was built so far back that no record of it 
_Temains. It is supposed to have been erected by the 
_ people who first settled this country. A Jew of im-~ 
mense wealth, who was born here, has given large sums 
to the city for public squares, and has built for his peo- 
ple a synagogue. As but few Jews reside in this 
place, it is only now and then that they hold meetings 
jn it. There were a great many from the South at 
Newport who are still rebels at heart; among them 
the mother and daughter of Corcoran, the rich banker 
at Washington, who had left the country for his coun- 
try’s good, as some thought. 


292 FROM POVERTY TO PLENTY. 4 


Aug. 20.— The city of Boston received the Chinese ~ 
Embassy and treated them to a sail down the harbor. 


I was one of the invited guests. We had a collation. 
Burlingame, our former minister, resigned, and accepted 
an office from the Emperor of China. I was introduced 
by Judge Russell. They are a very intelligent class of 


men. Some of them speak French and a little English, — 


and in their country are considered first-class scholars. 
The chief gave me his address in the Chinese language. 
We visited the House of Correction. Here two hundred 
little boys, sent there for stealing, were drawn up in 
a line. From there we went to the fort and fired a 
cannon at a target some distance from the fort, for their 
special benefit, to show them what we Yankees could 
do. The second minister of state among them was 
called Sun. 


Sept. 6. —Rev. Wm. McDonald arrived home, after 
three months vacati¢n to recuperate his health, some- 
what restored. He preached in the forenoon and after- 
noon. 


May, 1870.— A terrible accident happened in our 
family to-day. Dan Kimball, my son-in-law, was 
thrown from his carriage and almost instantly killed, — 
was never conscious after he was brought into the house. 
This was a terrible blow to his wife, as the horse and 
carriage stood at the door but a few moments before to 





: 
: 


ee ee Sk 


THE LIFE OF DAVID SNOW. 293 


take her to ride. So our family circle is broken in a 
moment, and at a time least expected. 
*. 

June 2. — We buried Mr. Kimball at Mount Auburn 
to-day, and truly the mourners went about the streets. 
I had felt a pressure on me for some time, not knowing 
what would take place. 


Aug. 8.—I started for Yarmouth camp-meeting, 
where I spent ten days very pleasantly with others in 
worshipping God and saving souls. 


Sept. 15. — To-day I closed the purchase of Arch 
Wharf, for sixty thousand dollars. It contains about 
twenty-two thousand feet of land pretty well covered 
with buildings. It is to be occupied by David and . 
Henry. It is well located for the fish business, in which 
I hope they will succeed. 

I am now attending the lifting cure, from which I am 
receiving some benefit. 


Oct. 20.— There has been a heavy shock of earth- 
quake in the city to-day. It was so severe that it even 
started a stone in an adjoining store to the Bank, and 
some put their money in the vault, fearing it might 
come down. 

I came to Boston in 1833, and commenced business 
on City Wharf. Was worth six thousand. dollars. 


294 FROM POVERTY TO PLENTY; OR, 




















What a change since then! For many years I toil ‘ 
with great assiduity, and now it seems as though I could 
rest and review the past, and note where I made nis- 
takes, which seem to be the lot of all. ae 


Jan., 1871. —I was at Wellfleet at the opening of th 
Railroad, and made a speech. During my stay we had 
a terrible snow-storm, which blocked the roads, so we 
had to stay over one day. a 

The fish and salt’ dealers had a dinner at Yous a’s 
Hotel. I was invited. My old partner, Rich, pre ic 
ed. We had rather a pleasant time ; speeches and song 
were given. This is the first time in New England that 
the fishmongers have met on such an occasion. — Fr: 

News by steamer that Paris has capitulated to t 
Prussians, and Napoleon is a prisoner in Prussia, An 
armistice is agreed upon for three weeks, which I ho: 
will result in peace. War is very uncertain as to who 
will be victorious. One thing is certain, Napo eo ls 
Third is dead for this world, as to name and power, 
among the people. There has been terrible suffer 
in Paris. Dog meat, one dollar per pound. Cats, rats 
and all kinds of animals are sought after to sustain | 
People have frozen to death, and others are dying 
food. The Pope has lost his temporal power, neve’ 
regain it I hope. The Italians have voted to m 
Rome the seat of Government, and it seems as thor 
God had a purpose in this war, to draw people a 


THE LIFE OF DAVID SNOW. 295 


from Rome, that the Pope might lose his temporal 
power. Paris is now in the possession of the Prussians. 
It looks now as if France must give up and make the 
best terms she can, Considerable excitement just now 
with regard to sending provisions to the suffering poor 
in Paris, and the government has placed a vessel at the 
command of the donors. Seventy-four thousand dol- 
lars have been contributed in Boston. It is said that 
Stewart, of New York, has loaded a vessel with four 
thousand barrels of flour, on his own account. ‘This 
country is now exercising a tremendous moral influence 
all over Europe. 

San Domingo is now seeking admission by annexa- 
tion to this country, and our government has sent a war 
vessel to the Island with three commissioners. ies! 

Isaac Rich’s wife died on the 18th, at Middletown. - 
She is to be brought to Boston, and the funeral is to be 
on the 17th. Mr. Rich was very much attached to his 
wife, and it must be a sad time for him when be shall 
look upon her face for the last time ; having lost all his 
children, now he is left alone. I pity him. 


May 19.— We had memorial services for Lee Claflin, 
who was a member of our board of trustees. He was 
a.good man and had but few equals. 


May 21.—Sold this day store No. 4 Commerce 
Street, for forty-three thousand dollars — about what 


296 _FROM POVERTY TO PLENTY; OR, 





it cost sixteen years ago. The sale enables me to pay 
off a deli 5 on my store on roi Street. T mie 











Street, but sa family declines to move from 
Street. 

I have more or a trials, which press bad pon | 
this poor, weak body. But such is life, its cares cannot J 
be avoided; and though they may be unpleasant to us, 
yet after all they may be blessings in disguise. The 
clouds that surround us have to those who are abiding ‘ 
in Christ a silver lining, and by faith we can look 
through and beyond to a brighter landscape; though I 
am of the opinion that if we have Christ abiding in us, — 
We enjoy a peace and have a comfort at our command — 
to solace in the warfare of life. 


July. — One of our directors, M. B. Sewell, a man I . 
have been intimate with for thirty years, is partially q 
insane, and though he is worth some - hundred and — 


now, at the time he expected to enjoy life, he i is unfitted — ; 
- for it. So uncertain are all things here. In the lan- — 
guage of Wolsey we might say: ‘‘ Farewell, a long o 
farewell to all my g greatness! ‘This is the state of man: 
to-day he puts forth the tender leaves of hope, to-mor- ; 4 
row he blossoms and bears his blushing honors thick 
aeiic= 5 him; the third day comes a frost, —a killing ! 


THE LIFE OF DAVID SNOW. 297 


frost, — and when he thinks, good, easy man, full surely 
this greatness is ripening, nips the root and he falls, 
like wanton boys that swim on bladders far beyond 
their depth, and at length it breaks under him and the 
vain pomp and glory of this world he feels does not 
satisfy. O, how wretched is that man when all the 
honors of this world slip from under him, and he falls, 
like Lucifer, never to hope or rise again!” This world, 
as Wolsey said, ‘‘is a burden too heavy for a man that 
hopes for heaven. Be just, and fear not. Let all the 
ends thou aimest at be for God and truth.” Closing, he 
says, ‘¢ If he had served his God as he had his king, he 
would not have left him destitute in his old age.” 





Aug. 14.—I shall start to-morrow for our annual 
camp-meeting at Yarmouth. 


Aug. 30.— Had a good time; went to the Vineyard 
and stayed over night; next day went to Hamilton ; 
stopped at Swampscott to see our family who were 
spending a few months at that place. Boston people 
seem to be much in favor of this place to spend the 
summer months. Salt water bathing is good, and it is 
very convenient. for business men to go and come, 
though for myself I should prefer some other place. 

At Yarmouth we had a goodly number converted ; 

“among them was a man seventy years old, father of one 
of the preachers, who got fully saved at the same time. 




















298 FROM POVERTY TO PLENTY; OR, 


fact it rains about every other day, which makes it bad 
for those who camp out under cloth tents. 


Sept. 27.—The difficulty between this country and 
England, growing out of the building and equiping wal 
vessels for the South, which nearly destroyed our com- 
merce on the sea, has been left to arbitration. This is’ 
considered a step toward a settlement of this vexed « ues - 
tion. . ’ 


Oct. 10. — News of a terrible fire at Chicago. It is 
_ said that three-quarters of the city is in flames. Thous-— 
ands of people, destitute and homeless, on the stree > 
call for help, and our people are responding with 
hearty good will. It is said that two hundred milli 
dollars of property is destroyed. Other fires are taki 
place in adjoining states. ; 


Oct. 30.— Our Methodist Church in Boston held a . 
meeting in Tremont Temple to take some action in r . 
gard to raising ten thousand altars to aid our Metho : 
ist brethren in Chicago. I was invited to preside. 
thousand five hundred dollars were raised. 

A son of the Russian Emperor is now _— 
country, and is the lion of the day. Wherever he g 
he attracts crowds of people. The reception is more i ; 
honor of his father, who gave this country his influe rey: 


THE LIFE OF DAVID SNOW. 299 


and sympathy, and sent her a large fleet of war vessels 
at a time when a kind word with a fleet had a wonder- 
ful effect on our national affairs, and seemed to infuse 
new life into the nation striving for existence; then 
the Prince, Duke Alexis, the Emperor’s oldest son, is a 
fine-looking man, and is a great favorite among the 
ladies. He and his suite occupied twenty-five rooms at 
the Revere House, and were supplied with all the lux- 
uries that the house could afford. During his stay he 
visited Bunker Hill, Lowell, and the Navy Yard, and 
was entertained at Music Hall by a concert given by two 
thousand children from our public schools. He is about 
twenty-two years old— in the prime and vigor of his 
manhood. 

A meeting on holiness is now being held at Bromfield 
Street Church by Bros. Inskip and McDonald.. Large 
numbers were converted, and many experienced full 
salvation. The largest meeting ever held upon this 
subject in Boston. 

I am not without trials, but I shall soon enter that 
home where the weary are at rest. But while I remain 
here I must try and cast my care upon the great Burden 

Bearer. 


Jan., 1872. —I have paid off the only note for real 
estate which I owe. New year opens with an easy 
money market and with a hopeful state of things. 


Jan. 10.— My old ’partner, Rich, was struck with 
























300 FROM POVERTY TO PLENTY; OR, 


apoplexy, and is now speechless. His wife died 
denly one year ago. Mr. Rich had four child “er , who 
all died young of consumption. His mind was t od t 
in his business, and he was ambitious to be rich. — 
possessed a great many excellent business cali 
as a salesman or purchaser he had but few e uC 
had he lived ten years longer would have bol ‘he 
richest man in Boston. He died on the thi 1, f 
six o’clock, aged seventy years. ‘I wrote a sketch of 
his early life, which was printed in «* Zion’s. Herald”) , 
request of the Wesleyan Association, of which he» was 
a member. i 
March 18,— To-day I received a letter from E. 3 
Phillips, said to have been received by him from my ol ld 
partner, now in the spirit world, in which he says ‘t in 
this world he did not develop his spiritual nature, « 
suffering on account of it; and that hypocrisy is the un- 
pardonable sin. There is something very strange in 
this letter, though I have no faith in spiritual manifest: 
tions communicated through Phillips. He is a gr a 
friend of Mr. Rich, and is a strong believer in h ese 
things. oe a 
To-day was one of the saddest of my life. te c ie 
on sister L., of Charlestown, and found her dying of 
can pee of which I was ignorant until this time. 
was almost gone, and could only whisper. She was 
always dear to me, being a member of my class, and it i 


THE LIFE OF DAVID SNOW. 301 


was enough to make one weep to see a mother dying 
and leaving two daughters. 

While in class the next evening news came to me 
that Sister Mills, another member of my class, had been 
stricken with paralysis, and wanted me to come and 
see her; another scene that made me weep. A mother 
in Israel about to depart and leave us behind.’ I am 
ordinarily sympathetic, but this was too much for me, 
and I could only give vent to my feelings in tears. 
Oh, thought I, how uncertain is life, and what a feeble 
hold we have on it! I must soon follow with others I 
hold most dear. Sister Mills passed away at four 
o’clock. She was a woman greatly devoted to her 
family and to the church of her choice. It was a terri- . 
ble blow to her husband. 


June. —Samuel A. Way, a banker and merchant, 
died on the 4th instant. He came to Boston a poor 
boy, and had accumulated an immense fortune; but 
such was his love of money that his moral character 
was not at all times sufficiently strong to resist tempta- 
tion. I called on him several times to influence him to 
go to church, but he always evaded me by excuses of 
various kinds. He has passed away, leaving no.evidence 
of a change of heart, or.a fitness for the abodes of the 
blest. The last act which seemed to break him down was 
that he was caught in defrauding the government out of 


one hundred and fifty thousand dollars in duties on to- 
26 





302 FROM POVERTY TO PLENTY; OR, 


bacco; and some family trouble added to this seemed — 
to close the scene of his earthly life. If he had given 
his heart to Christ he might have been a power for 
good. He left some millions of property, and in his — 
will gives it mainly to build a hospital for poor sewing 

women. 


July 5.—I left to-day for a camp-meeting at Sea 
Cliff, Long Island. I found it very hot indeed; stayed 
but a few days, and returned home via New York. — 
There were present some very choice spirits. I met — 
some from Philadelphia, Baltimore, New York and other — 
places, and it seemed as though the elect were gathered 
together for holy convocation. Sea Cliff is a new eamp- 
ground, got up by a company for camp-meeting pur- 
poses. They have a cloth tabernacle to hold their ] 
meetings in, as well as a building which will hold four — 
thousand people. There are boarding-houses and eat- 
ing-tents to accommodate five thousand people. But 
the lack of shade trees is a great disadvantage to the 
place, and they have commenced to plant such trees, 
but it will take years to grow them. There were about 
two thousand people on the ground, and among them 
some of the purest and most intellectual minds that this 
country éver produced, enjoying a feast of love; and no 
doubt an influence will go out from this meeting which 
will be felt far and near. God grant it may be so. 


July 23.—A camp-meeting is now in progress in — 


THE LIFE OF DAVID SNOW. 303 


Richmond, Maine, which I think of attending a few 
days. 


July 26. — To-day I purposed to start for Richmond, 
but Brother Clark, our presiding Elder, called and in- 
sisted that I should stay over until Monday, and pre- 
side at a meeting in our church to raise money for the 
City Missions. Bishop Wiley was to be present. This 
prevented me from going until Monday. I found Rich- 
mond rather a rough place, no great conveniences for 
camping out, the ground being very uneven and full of 
rocks and stumps. It will require considerable labor 
and money to put it in good condition, and make it 
comfortable. But I find that when people have a good 
deal of love to God and love for souls, they can put up 
with a good many inconveniences. It rained about 
every other day, but the tabernacle made it dry for the 
meetings. Bros. McDonald and Inskip took dinner 
with me on their return, on their way to Urbana, Ohio. 


Aug. 13.—Started for Yarmouth camp-meeting. 
During the Summer thus far it seems as though it had 
rained about every other day. It not only rains, but it 
pours. More rain has fallen in Boston in ten days than 
in six months before. Had a good time at Yarmouth. 

Another dear friend of mine, A. B. Merrill, is near 
to death. He is fifty-seven years old, has a wife, but 
no children. He has amassed a fortune. He has been 


304 FROM POVERTY TO PLENTY; OR, 






living in New Orleans for some years, working a sugar . 
plantation, where he contracted the malaria of that 
country which laid the foundation of a disease that ter- 
minated in death. He was a good, honest man, a law- — 
yer by profession, and the son of a Methodist preacher. — 
I felt his loss deeply. 

I have spent two days at Boothbay, with my friend | 
Nickerson and his wife. He manufactures oil from a fish — 
called pogies, which come from the South in the Spring, — 
and remain on the Eastern coast some three months. — 
They are taken near the shore in nets. It is not unusual — 
to take a thousand barrels ina day. They are taken to 
the factory, hoisted up by steam into vats of hot water, 
where the fish are completely cooked; then they are — 
put under hydraulic pressure, and the oil and water all — 
squeezed out of them. The refuse contains ammonia, 
which is valuable as a fertilizer. While here I took 
possession of an island (not very large, by the by), and 
called it Snow’s Island. My grandson went with me 
and enjoyed the trip very much, as he was fond of a — 
boat, and was on the water most of the time. . 

What a wonderful blessing that one can control his 
feelings when provoked or insulted. I had a specimen 





of this to-day. My agent, who is building my new 
store on Federal Street, became much excited and 


‘ 
‘ 


flew into a passion because I merely asked himefor the 
explanation of a bill he had approved, and notwith- — 
standing I was grossly insulted, I felt as calm as I pos- q 


; 
a 


THE LIFE OF DAVID SNOW. 305 


sibly could. I am fully persuaded that the grace of 
God has a wonderful power over a man who is in the 
enjoyment of full salvation. _ 

A sad death occurred to-day in Dorchester. Charles 
Lane, Esq., an old acquaintance of mine for thirty 
years, was shot by an assassin Sunday evening. He 
was sitting in his room reading, and answering the door- 
bell about eight o’clock, a man shoved an umbrella in 
his face and fired a pistol at him, which proved fatal. 
The only words he spoke were to his wife, who stood 
at the head of the stairs: ‘‘I am shot by some one. I 
don’t know who, for I was not aware I had an enemy 
in the world.” 

I attended his funeral yesterday as one of the pall- 
bearers. So we pass away; some by a lingering 
disease, some by accident, and some by the hand of the 


assassin. 


Nov. 9.—Ever memorable in the annals of Boston, 
—the great fire which has swept off, as in a day, mil- 
lions of property, covering some seventy acres, mainly 
~ stores. I was present when it commenced, and saw, 

with my own eyes, the most fearful conflagration New 
England ever knew. I stood and saw burnt in thirty 
minutes property that had cost me years of labor. I 
owned five stores, which gave me a rental of thirty 
thousand dollars ; they were destroyed in thirty minutes, 
and though the loss was large, I never felt calmer in 


306 FROM POVERTY TO PLENTY; OR, 


my life. To cap the climax, every insurance office — 
where I was insured failed. - 


Nov. 12. —To-day the whole burnt district is under 
martial law; no passing in or out ‘without a permit. 
Thousands of people from the surrounding country are 
thronging our streets to see the ruins and get some . 
relics of the fire. I engaged a mason at once to rebuild, — 
and set men at work clearing away the debris. Iam — 
anxious to have the first building erected on the burnt 
district. ’ 


Nov. 18. — Another fire in State Street Block; some — 
two hundred thousand dollars worth of property de- 
stroyed. The fire-king seems to reign: I have so — 
many things on my mind I hardly know what to do 
first, but I am confidant it will all come out right at — 
last. Nothing seems safe. How fragile are all things — 
here below. May God bestow upon me a measure of , 
grace to endure all that is resting upon me! I have esi 
but little hopes that my daughter Elizabeth, who is 
very sick, will recover, and still I do not see as I can + 
be reconciled to her death, yet I must submit the best 
I can. It has been ascertained by a clairvoyant that ‘ 
she has a tumor, and hopes are entertained that it may 
be removed, if so she may recover. E 





Jan. 23, 1873. —I have re-let my store on Washing- BS 


THE LIFE OF DAVID SNOW. 307 


ton Street to the old tenants, for eighteen thousand 
dollars per annum, and taxes; also my new store on. 
Federal Street, to Sabin & Page, for eight thousand 
dollars. The indication is, that the city will widen 
Broad Street, cutting off some fifty feet of my property 
called Arch Wharf. I was induced to buy Packard’s . 
Wharf, adjoining, for which I paid fifty thousand dollars. 


Feb. 8. —Sold my estate on High Street to Henry 
Flanders, for eighteen dollars per square foot. My 
object in doing so was, that I had so much land in the 
burnt district. Still I think I made a mistake. 

The city seems to- have a fever for widening the 
streets in the burnt district. They have widened Fed- 
eral Street, which was formerly forty-five to sixty feet. 
The city have passed an order to cut off fifty feet from 
Arch and Packard’s Wharves, and have allowed me for 
land and damages to buildings, some eighty thousand 
dollars. 


I have now gone very rapidly over my life, omitting 
much that might be of interest to narrate, as I purpose 
not to elaborate, as it might make the book too large. 
I have rebuilt nearly all my stores burned in the great 
fire, which has been a severe tax on my nervous system. 
Under the new law, buildings have cost some twenty 
per cent. more than they did before the fire. The large 
amount of real estate built during the year, is greatly 


308 FROM POVERTY TO PLENTY; OR, x 


in excess of the demand, consequently rents have fallen — 
and many stores do not find tenants at any price, and real . 
estate owners must wait until business inereases so as _ 
to create a demand. I should say one-sixth of the new ; 
stores on the burnt district are still unoccupied. For- 

. tunately I succeeded in letting mine, though at a low 
rate, as I consider it poor policy to allow real estate to — 
remain unoccupied. 

After having gone briefly over my eventful life, I feel 
somewhat like the mariner, after a long voyage, home- _ 
ward bound, and nearing the port which ends life’s 
activity,—the old ship having been in storm and sun- — 
shine, furnace heat and winter’s cold, rigging strained, 
sails torn and split, the hull weak and leaking. StillI 
live. Addison says : ‘‘ It should be an indispensable rule _ 
in life to contract our desires to our present condition, 
and whatever may be our expectation, to live within 
the compass of what we actually possess. It will be — 
time enough to enjoy an estate when it comes into 
our hands; but if we anticipate our good fortune we 
shall lose the pleasure of it when it arrives, and may — 
possibly never possess what we so foolishly counted 
upon.” Life is not a state of rest, but of incessant toil ; 

a compound of working powers maintained by one princi- 

pal, for oneend. To be is better than not to be, though 4 
all our life may seem a tragedy. Life is too often neg- — ‘ 
lected and allowed to lapse into weakness; but trained B 
and exercised, it will quicken into grandeur. For it is 





THE LIFE OF DAVID SNOW. 309 


better to wear out than rust out, and that I know by an 
experience of seventy years. The great mistake which 
too many make in life is to avoid the duties which 
press upon them while they are aiming to reach the 
goal. Allow me to say, with a motto nothing short of 
success : — 
“T am a wave of life, 

Stained with my margin’s dust; 

From the struggle and the strife 

Of the narrow stream I fly, 

To the sea’s immensity, 

To wash from me the slime 


Of the muddy banks of time.” 
— Longfellow. 


CHAPTER XIV. 
Miscellaneous Writings. 


THE WEALTH OF THE SEAS. 















AN ESSAY READ BEFORE THE BOSTON M. E. SOCIAL UNION. 


OD has stored the ocean, rivers, and lakes of this 
country with untold riches. The waters are full 

of life, from the whale down to the smallest animaleul: 
which can be seen only by the microscope. Gold : 
silver to the inhabitants of the world have no compari 

son to its real value; but fish of every kind are us 
as an article of food, supporting life and giving empleo 
ment to man. Let us consider the difference betw = 2 
the wealth of the mines and the fisheries of this count ye 
A few years ago, thousands of New Englanders I 
‘their home, ‘sweet home,” with all its comforts 
moral influences, to seek their fortunes in Califo 
whose streets, it was said, as well as rivers and n 
tains, were full of the precious metal. They comps = 
sea and land, endured a six months’ voyage around Ca 
Horn, all for gold. And what was the result? 


one succeeded, ten lost their reputation and self respe 
310 


- 


THE LIFE OF DAVID SNOW. 311 


All, all was gone. They would toil all day in the 
mines, and at eve, when they should have rested, they 
spent the time in drinking, fighting, carousing and ~ 
gambling, returning home, after years of absence, 
bankrupt in everything dear toman. This reminds me 
of a story of two brothers in Spain. The younger had 
the gold fever, and come to America he would. His 
elder brother, failing to convince him of his folly, came 
with him, and took along oxen and articles of husbandry. 
They landed in South America in the spring. The 
younger went immediately to the gold region. The 
elder commenced to plow the soil and sow his seed in 
the work of agriculture. In the fall the younger 
brother returned with his gold, but nearly famished for 
want of food. His elder brother, for a time, declined - 
to give him any thing to eat, as he wised to cure him 
of his gold fever; but at last, when he saw that his 
brother must die, he compromised the matter, took all 
his brother’s gold for a mere mess of pottage, as did 
Jacob of his brother Esau, of old. 

The speculation in mining property has cost New 
England more than all the products of the mines; and 
some of our clergy have learned this by sad experience. 
How much it cost them to learn this lesson in a silver 
mine in Nevada! It is not so with the fisheries. Men 
leave home and carry with them all their home in- 
fluences. They do not leave them on the fishing 
grounds, but return with rich cargoes and the grace of 


312 FROM POVERTY TO PLENTY; OR, 


God in their hearts; a blessing to their neighborhood 
and to the world. Not so the miner. 


Our Pilgrim Fathers, when they had landed on these 4 
shores in 1620, at once took hooks and lines and went — 
a fishing. Then these bays and harbors abounded with — 


fish of every kind, and in great abundance, vita 
seemingly, for some one to come and take them. 

The importance of the fisheries to the world has — 
never been told. This branch of industry and wealth, 


taken from the ocean, the great body of the people — 
have not fully appreciated ; neither would your patience — 


endure any extended remarks on so important a matter. 


I shall, therefore, confine my remarks to a very brief a 
synopsis of the subject. I shall speak mainly of the — 


codfish, mackerel and herring, which have their haunts 


mostly in New England, and on the shores and bays of 
British North America; and of the vast wealth derived — 


therefrom to all the world. 


Massachusetts very early began to protect the fish- — 
eries by statute, and an emblem of the codfish was 


very early hung up in the State House, with the old 
gun, to remind the legislators that they must not forget 
from whence their wealth and liberty came. 


was impeached for high treason; and, among other 


things, it was charged against him that in defiance of the — 





* 


¥ 
rr 


When a British Province, the English Government — 
took a deep interest in this branch of industry; and in 
1717, in the reign of Queen Ann, one of her ministers 


THE LIFE OF DAVID SNOW. 313 


express act of Parliament, he had advised his sovereign 
that the subjects of France have the liberty of fishing 
and drying their fish in Newfoundland. Not long after 
this, the French settled on the Island of Cape Breton, 
where they built the famous town of Louisburg, at an 
expense of thirty millions of livres, to protect and en- 
courage the fisheries. Twenty-five years later, the num- 
ber of their vessels engaged in fishing, was six hundred, 
employing twenty-seven thousand men, and producing 
fish to the annual value of four million five hundred 
thousand dollars. It is said by Sabine, that more than 
two hundred pieces of cannon were mounted to defend 
the town, and such was its strength that it was called 
the Dunkirk of America. It had numerous terraces and 
gardens. That such a city rose upon a lone and deso- 
late island in the infancy of American Colonization, ap- 
pears incredible, and the only explanation is found in 
the enthusiasm of the fisheries of that period. In 1745, 
this stronghold was besieged and captured by a volun- 
teer force from New England, commanded by Sir Wil- 
liam Pepperell, the son of a fisherman of the Isle of 
Shoals. The capture caused great excitement in Eng- 
land, and Sir William was baroneted for this exploit. 
To go back and trace this important branch of industry 
in a comprehensive form, is my present purpose. 

' As early as the beginning of the Christian era, we 
find men engaged in the fisheries. Christ selected his 


apostles mainly from men of that calling, thereby hon- 
27 


314 FROM POVERTY TO PLENTY; OR, 








oring their profession, saying very emphatically to — 
Peter, that from henceforth he would make him a fisher 
of men. With them a piece of broiled fish and honey 
comb was not an unusual repast. 
I shall omit to speak of the whale and seal fiahail 
as they are not strictly fish, though immense wealth is 
derived from that source. $ 
New Bedford, Nantucket, and other places, owe their 
wealth to the whale fishing. Sinope, on the Black Sea, 4 
and Byantum, were famous for their lucrative fisheries. — 
The Romans, in the third century, were great con- 
sumers of fish. The fishermen of the Mediterranean — 
pursued their prey even to the open sea. E 
The fisheries of Egypt, which were mainly inland, in 3 
the lakes, canals, and on the river Nile, were celebrat- 
ed for their productiveness. Their consumption was — 
encouraged by law, and on the ninth day of every 
month every person was obliged to eat fried fish before — 
the door of his own house; and the revenue derived — 
from one of those lakes amounted annually to four mil- 
lions seven hundred dollars, and was given to the queen — 
for pin money. i 
The earliest date of the herring and cod fisheries, 
was in the seventh and ninth centuries; the mackerel q 
fishery in the fourteenth century; and such was the 
interest in the fisheries that in 1702 England declared _ 
war with France, which lasted till 1713, when at the ~ 
peace of Repswick the French were not allowed to fish — 
within thirty leagues of the coast of Nova Scotia. 


THE LIFE OF DAVID SNOW. 315 


Coming down to a later period, we might mention 
that the product of the English fisheries were immense, 
and the interest parliament took in them was so great 
that they gave a bounty of forty pounds to each vessel 
thus employed between 1795 and 1815. In one year 
one million two hundred thousand quintals of codfish 
were taken and cured, and were estimated to be worth 
twelve millions of dollars. There were employed twen- 
ty-three thousand six hundred men, who mainly became 
sailors, from whom were supplied men for the British 
navy. That nation always considered the fisheries as a 
nursery for seamen. Being accustomed to living on the 
rolling billows from their youth up, they were the very 
class of men who in time of war stood ready to man 
their ships of war and protect their country’s flag; and 
therefore the government enacted many laws expressly 
to aid and encourage the fisheries. 

Edward Winslow, in his narrative of the true grounds 
and causes of the first planting of New England from 
Leyden, relates an interview between King James First 
and the agent of the Pilgrims who went from Leyden 
in 1618, to solicit his consent to their going to America. 
The king asked them what profits might come from it. 
They answered, “Fishing.” Upon which King James 
replied, «‘So help me God, as I hope to be saved, ’tis 
an honest business! It was the apostles’ own calling.” 

Soon after the Pilgrims had commenced a settlement 
at Plymouth, they engaged in the fisheries. In 1824 


316 FROM POVERTY TO PLENTY; OR, 





they sent a vessel to England, loaded with fish. In jf 
1628 they were selling fish to the Dutch in New Am- 
sterdam (now New York). In 1670, the profits of the 
mackerel, bass, cod and herring fisheries were granted 
to found a free school, which was opened in 1671, and 
has never been closed to this day. 


‘“« Wild are the waves which lash 
The reefs along St. George’s Bank, 
Cold on the shore of Labrador 
The fog lies white and dank. 
Through storms and waves and blinding mist, 
Stout are the hearts that man 
The fishing smacks of Marblehead, 
The sea boats of Cape Ann.” 


In 1639, Massachusetts passed an act to encourage 
the fisheries, by exempting fishing vessels, and all 
property connected therewith, from taxation for.seven 
years. In 1700, the exportation of fish from Massachu-— 


setts to Spain, Portugal and Italy, was over seven hun- 


dred thousand dollars. 

In 1775, Marblehead was second only to Boston 
in population and wealth. About this time the British 
Government, with a view of starving New England into 
submission, passed a law to deprive the Colonies of the 
right of fishing on the banks of Newfoundland, which 
caused the breaking out of hostilities which nent 
destroyed the fisheries. 

In the commencement of the war, Marblehead sent 





THE LIFE OF DAVID SNOW. alt, 


one regiment of men to Washington, and so great was . 
the loss of life at the end of the war, that the records 
of Marblehead show six hundred widows and one thou- 
sand fatherless children in a population of less than 
four thousand. In the war of 1812, Beverly and Sa- 
lem fitted out fifty-two vessels, with seven hundred and 
fifty guns and nearly four thousand seamen, who were 
mostly fishermen, showing the importance in those 
days, as now, of protecting the fisheries as a nursery 
' for seamen. 

The capture of the fishing grounds from the English 
was-ever a favorite project; and in the negotiation 
of the treaty of peace, the right of the Americans to a 
share in the. fisheries was secured by the firmness of 
John Adams, who made that right an ultimatum in 
all the discussions with the British commissioners, that 
the people of the United States shall continue to enjoy 
unmolested the right to take fish on the banks of New- 
foundland, in the Gulf of St: Lawrence, and all other 
places where they used to fish. In 1789, Congress 
passed an act granting a bounty of five cents per quin- 
tal on all exported fish, and imposing a duty of fifty 
cents on all imported fish. During the war of 1812, 
_the British cruisers kept our vessels from the fishing 
grounds, and our fishermen entered the navy. The 
frigate Constitution was chiefly manned by them. I 
had a brother on board the ‘‘ Reindeer” privateer, and 
he, with many other fishermen, was taken prisoner, and 
spent some time in Dartmouth prison. 


318 FROM POVERTY TO PLENTY; OR, 


’ 


My father, previous to this, in the prosecution of his % 


calling, was lost at sea, on board a vessel loaded with 
fish, bound from Boston to Havana, and his bones 
lie among the coral rocks on the Bahama Banks. He 


left a widow, with three small children to support by — 


the labor of her hands, I being only three weeks old. 

At the close of the war, Dartmouth prison discharged 
over five hundred men, mostly from Marblehead, and 
the greater part fishermen. 

Passing over much that might be of interest, for 
want of time, in 1820 I became an active fisherman ; 
brought up on Cape Cod, where people knew but little 
except what pertained to the fisheries, and where the 
girls were ready and willing to catch, as well as cure 
the fish. Many a young man found his way there in 
pursuit of a wife, and no wonder, for then the women 
were not ashamed to work with their husbands, their 


hands not having become so tender as now, by the 


wearing of kid gloves. And what is very singular, I 
never heard one of these men say but what he made 
a good bargain. : 

The amount of wealth taken from the sea is but little 
understood. A Boston man, who thought himself well 


posted, said he discovered one firm which sold one 


hundred and fifty thousand dollars per annum, when 
there were several which sold from half a million to a 
million a year. 

To increase and encourage the fisheries, in 1829 our 






THE LIFE OF DAVID SNOW. 319 


government paid as high as four dollars per ton bounty, 
which amounted annually to the sum of three hundred 
and fifty thousand dollars. In 1852, serious troubles 
took piace between the British and American fisher- 
men. The English sent a fleet of war ships to the 
fishing ground, an act which the United States re- 
garded as illegal, and in return she sent war steam- 
ers, the ‘‘ Princetown” and ‘‘ Fulton,” to the coast 
of Nova Scotia, to protect our fishing vessels, but 
the difficulty was finally settled by a treaty of reci- 
procity, which is now terminated. 

In 1858, the total value of exported fish was rising 
three millions. Of this amount, two hundred and 
twenty-three thousand dollars was sent to the island of 
St. Domingo, and one hundred and twenty-nine thou- 
sand dollars to Cuba. 

Beside the sea fisheries, we have a valuable shad 
fishery in the Connecticut, Hudson, Delaware and 
Potomac rivers, as also in our Jakes, —Erie, Huron, 
Michigan and Superior,—such as trout, pickerel and 
white fish. The estimated annual value of these is 
some six hundred thousand dollars. 

The fisheries of the Pacific coast, by the acquisition 
_ of Alaska, are yet in their infancy. Their rivers, bays, 
inlets and banks are alive with fish of every kind found 
in the North Atlantic: the whale and walrus, which 
produce oil and ivory; halibut, cod, mackerel, salmon, 
herring and bass. es 


320 FROM POVERTY TO PLENTY; OR, . 

These fisheries are said by General Thomas, and — 
affirmed by other authorities, to be worth twenty mil-— 
lions annually. For a more detailed account, see **Re- — 
port of Sabine,” in 1850. Snow & Rich were applied 
to by the Secretary of State, for information in regard 7 
to the value and number of vessels engaged in the fish- — 
cries. If my memory is correct, there were some . 
two thousand vessels of one hundred tons each, and two _ 
hundred thousand men, employed in the fisheries and — 
on shore, in 1850. The total product of wealth, in- ; 
cluding the whale fishery, was over thirty million 
dollars. Snow & Rich’s sales were one and one- 
fourth to two million dollars annually. 








Most of the fish to supply the West went by way of 
New Orleans, but since then the railroads haye become — 
so numerous, and transportation so cheap, that the — 
West is now supplied by railroads, and the con- 
sumption is increased an hundred fold. 

What twenty-five years ago was thought an impossi- 
bility, is now an every-day occurrence. A man from 
the East, in Chicago, or St. Paul, may find on his table 
- fresh fish, taken afew days before in Boston Bay. 
The fish trade is immense of which we have no statis- 
tics. I might amplify on this important branch of New 
England industry to any extent. 

Let me allude to a fish called pogie, or menhaden, 3 
which swarm our waters on the shores of Maine, from 3 
June to October, and which, until within a few years, x 


THE LIFE OF DAVID SNOW. 321 


have not been thought worth catching, except to be 
spread on land as a fertilizer. ‘There are now eleven 
establishments in Maine, and some in Rhode Island, for 
manufacturing oil from these fish. Being invited by 
Mr. J. G. Nickerson, who was from the Cape, I visited 
his establishment in Maine, and spent several days at 
his hospitable mansion. I found he had invested in 
a wharf, machinery and buildings (including five ves- 
sels and barges), some fifty thousand dollars, and last 
year made and marketed thirty-four hundred barrels of 
oil, some of which he sent to France. 

It is not unusual to take one thousand barrels of 
these fish ina single day. I was present at four o’clock 
one afternoon, when a vessel came in with one hun- 
dred and ten barrels, which were hoisted by an elevator 
up three stories, and put into vats, or tubs, of the capa- 
city of twenty-five barrels each. Steam was let on, and 
the fish were cooked. Then they were put under 
a hydraulic press, twenty-horse power, and all the oil 
and water pressed out, and what remained was cold 
scraps. In four hours from the time the fish were 
landed, all the oil was extracted, and the net proceeds, 
after paying the fishermen sixty dollars for the fish, 
were one hundred and thirty dollars, besides the scraps. 

Mr. Nickerson, being a chemist, discovered that 
what remained after the oil was extracted was strongly 
impregnated with ammonia, a valuable fertilizer, — 
though formerly considered worthless. 







322 FROM POVERTY TO PLENTY}; OR, 


What is very singular, the value of these fish was — 
accidentally discovered by a poor woman. In the sum- — 
mer these fish come in large schools near the shore; and — 
with dip-nets she would put off a little from the shore, 
in a dorey, and take what she wanted. Her object, — 
mainly, was to cook them for her pigs. She found — 
that considerable oil rose to the top, some of which she“ 
took in a large vial and brought it to Boston, and — 
showed it to an oil dealer, who, after some explanation, 
fitted her out with some large kettles and seines, and 
the next year she made several barrels of oil; and so 
the business increased till some twenty or thirty of her 
neighbors were thus fitted out, and the business termi- 
nated in large factories such as I have alluded to. 
These scraps are valuable to mix with phosphate of 7 
lime, for manure. A ready market for it, at twelve to 
fifteen dollars per ton, can be found. It has been said 
by those who have practiced it, that the fish used asa 
fertilizer will produce double their value in vegetables. 

The ‘oyster fisheries are immense. One hundred 
sail of vessels, or more, after the fishing season is over, 
are employed in freighting this bivalve from Virginia 
to New York, Boston, and other intermediate ports, 
from October till April. These are sent through all the a 
New England States. The consumption of fishand their 
value has never been told. In the city of Londonalone, 
four hundred and fifty million pounds of fish, and one 
million three hundred and fifty thousand bushels of 


THE LIFE OF DAVID SNOW. 323 


oysters are consumed annually, which, at a fair valua- 
tion, exceeds thirty million dollars. In 1869, such was 
the interest taken by the government in the fisheries, 
that it employed R. D. Cutts to examine the resources 
and extent of the fishing grounds in the North Pacific, 
opened by the treaty of Alaska, as also the markets 
and fisheries of other nations. After a careful inves- 
tigation, he presented a report in detail, recommend- 
ing a call for an international exhibition of the fish- 
eries. 

The men who follow this business, as a class, are 
skillful, hardy and energetic, and have brought the art 
of catching and curing fish, and the materials and ap- 
paratus in regard to each department, to such a degree 
of perfection that they are felt and acknowledged in all 
the markets of the world. In 1864, seven million two 
hundred and forty-eight thousand dollars were realized 
from the cod and mackerel fishery, making a total for 
home consumption of over fourteen million dollars. If 
we should include the fresh-water fish, — shad, salmon, 
white fish, oysters, etc., — millions might be added to 
this amount. Sabine estimates the interior products 
ef the fisheries to be eight million dollars. 

Fish in great abundance, and of every variety, are 
found all along the extensive and deeply indented coast 
of Japan. Immense quantities of salmon are taken 
and cured and distributed. inland, and exported to 
China. In 1860, ninety-five thousand four hundred 


324 FROM POVERTY TO PLENTY; OR, 


~ 















and sixty-two dollars in value were exported from one 
port to China. The value of Russian fisheries in 1855 _ 
was eleven million four hundred and ninety thousand — 
dollars. The British fisheries, in 1862, gave employ-— 
ment to ninety-seven thousand men; more than one- — 
third of the seamen who manned the entire merchant 
marine of the United Kingdom, producing some seven- 3 
teen million dollars of wealth. The home consumption — 
in Italy alone, in the article of sardines, was five million . 
seven hundred thousand dollars. There is no country — 
in Europe more famous for its fisheries than Holland. — 
In allusion to her success in this’ hardy industry, it has_ 
been said that Amsterdam was built on a foundation of 
herring bones. 

The earliest organized fleet for the ecd and herring” — 
fisheries belonging to Holland, with a population of 
two and one-half millions, employed four hnndred and ~ 
fifty thousand men. It was in those days that the fish- 
eries were looked upon as the right arm of the repub-_ hs 
lic, when De Ruyter and Van Tromp defeated the fleet 
of Louis YIV. Her catch in 1865, in value, was over _ 
three million dollars. ise 

In Great Britain and Ireland, the average amount _ 
taken from the sea was about eighty-eight dollars to 
each person, while in Norway it was three hundredand 
forty-six dollars ; Belgium, two hundred and sixty-two + 
dollars ; Nova Scotia, two hundred and forty-three dol- : 
lars ; Massachusetts, two hundred and fifty dollars. 


THE LIFE OF DAVID SNOW. 325 


In 1872, in the towns of Wellfleet and Provincetown, 
the product from the fisheries was about two million 
dollars, equal to nine hundred dollars to each one 
’ engaged in the business. Gloucester exceeds this state- 
ment, showing the importance of this New England 
branch of our industry. 

The population of those countries in Kurope and the 
United States, engaged in the fisheries, is over three 
hundred and fifty-nine millions, and the product from 
the sea and. inland fisheries, is over one hundred and 
fifty million dollars annually. This is only as far as- 
we can get at it by statistics, leaving out millions that 
enter into the consumption of which we have no ac- 
count. 

There is no one country in the world that produces 
so'much from the sea as the Norwegian. With a pop- 
ulation of one million seven hundred thousand, they 
took from the sea in 1865, over thirteen million dollars 
of wealth, while the United States, with a population 
of thirty-eight millions in 1869, produced but nine 
million dollars. 

The importation into Russia, Austria, Belgium, Italy, 
Portugal and Spain is annually some seventeen million 
dollars, independent of their own catch. The present 
position of the United States would warrant such an 
international convention as was suggested by D. R. 
Cutts. Great Britain, and other nations engaged in 


the fisheries, would, without doubt, respond, as there 
- 28 


~ 


3826 FROM POVERTY TO PLENTY; OR, 


are thousands of men who have thronged our sea-coast 
in pursuit of the fisheries, which in product and wealth 
have proved so great a blessing to the world. 

The fishmongers of London came into notice in 
1209, and were incorporated by letters patent, and 
acted under authority which gave them power to make 
by-laws. Their great wealth was seen in 1298, in 
meeting King Edward I., on his return from Scotland, 
with a splendid pageantry. He soon after removed 
the restriction placed upon them by his father, and 
restored the fishmongers to their former liberty. They 
were incorporated in the reign of Richard I., and had 
elected, from time to time, over sixty of their number 
as lord mayors of London, which included several 
merchants of eminence. Sir William Walworth was 
one of them. He was elected the second time, partly 
for his bravery in killing Wat. Tyler, that notorious 


rebel who was marching on London at the head of. 


thirty thousand men like himself. 

Eels appear to have been a great luxury among the 
nobility and monasteries. A pie made of lamprey eels 
gave a fatal surfeit to Henry I. In the reign of Queen 
Mary, additional rights were granted the fishmongers 
of London, among which was the right, in perpetuity, 
of electing their own wardens to oversee and govern 
the community, and to have a common seal for the use 
and service of said company forever; and said commu- 
nity were allowed to implead and be impleaded before 





q 
| 


=F ==) 


THE LIFE OF DAVID SNOW. 327 


any court or judge, in whatever action, in the city 
of London, their interest might require. 

One of their by-laws was that no one should suffer 
his wife or servant to stand and sell fish, unless in the 
absence of the owner of the stall; and all fish dealers 
were to wear a gown or livery. Refusing to comply 
with these rules subjected them to a fine of forty shil- 
lings. 

In 1426, on the festival of St. Peter, they were to 
to go in a new livery to the church, and hear solemn 
mass, and offer what their devotions prompted. I will 
mention the ancient mayoralty pageant at the inaugura- 
tion of John Lemain, one of their number, in 1616 and 
1617. In this inauguration there is afforded a complete 
idea of the style of this company’s exhibition on similar 
occasions. It runs as follows : — 

The Golding fishery, or the honor of fishmongers 
appertaining to the advancement of John Lemain to 
the dignity Lord Mayor of London, taking his oath at 
Westminster, on Tuesday, the 29th of October, 1616, 
performed in hearty love to him, and at charges of 
worthy brethren, the ancient and right worshipful 
company of fishmongers. This company maintained no 
less than three priests or chaplains. A full life statue 
of Sir William Walworth, one of their number, stands 
in their building called the Fishmongers’ Hall, the in- 
terior of which is very splendid, excelling for delight-- 
fulness of situation, elegance of style, finish and con- 


328 FROM POVERTY TO PLENTY; OR, 


s 


venience, all other companies’ halls in London. The 
managers distributed annually, for charitable purposes, 
eight hundred pounds, to educate the poor children of 


their own members, and this trait seemed to have fol- 


lowed those who emigrated to this country. 

The Methodist church to-day is indebted to one of 
its members for its princely endowment for educational 
purposes. He was strictly.a Boston fishmonger, and 
all his wealth came from the sea,—a branch of New 
England industry. He was a very poor boy, of poor 
parents, from one of our fishing towns on the Cape. 
He came to Boston, destitute of education; so much so 
that in after life he was dependent upon others to write 
his letters. 

In his youth he might have been seen promenading 
our streets, crying at the top of his voice, ** Here’s cod 
and haddock; who'll buy?” And in the evening, un- 
til eleven and twelve o’clock, crying, ‘* Here’s oysters 
for sale!” And at times he might have been seen with 
a wheelbarrow loaded with the bivalve, a strap around 
his shoulders, at early dawn (when many others who 
are now reaping the benefit of his toil would have been 
sleeping), on his way to Brighton. ; 

I hope, therefore, that the trustees of Boston College, 
in remembrance of the donor, will have a codfish, or 
mackerel, or both, suspended in some one of its halls, 
that posterity may know, whenever they shall look upon 
these emblems of the donor’s wealth, that it came from 








THE LIFE OF DAVID SNOW. 329 


the sea, and has done much for the education of the 
poor. 

In every country where the fisheries have been pros- — 
ecuted, they have been successful nurseries of discoy- 
eries, commerce, civilization and human progress. 
This industry has infused into youthful breasts heroic 
achievements. The page of history is spangled with 
valorous deeds of the fishermen. The apostles, who 
abandoned their nets to share the toils and companion- 
ship of Jesus, were nurtured in the fishing craft. Suc- 
“cessful fisheries were prosecuted on Lake Tiberias, 
Bethsaida and Capernaum, which provided a certain 
competency; and the families of fishermen form a 
pleasant and peaceful society through all the lake re- 
gion, with something of refinement. Jesus there found 
his real home. He installed himself among them as 
one of them, and Capernaum became his own city; 
and in the midst of this little circle who adored him, 
he forgot the derision that the Jews were heaping upon 
him. 

The effort of our day to re-stock our principal lakes 
and rivers with fish for food, has met with gratifying 
success. A reckless disregard of acknowledged laws 
in the taking of fish, has almost depopulated some of 
our chief lakes and rivers. The re-stocking of the 
water-courses of our country will hereafter become 
great distributors in supplying fish for our country. 
Shad have been placed in the head waters of the Miss- . 


330 FROM POVERTY TO PLENTY; OR, 


issippi, in the Lakes, at Denver, in the Alleghany, 
and in the White River of Indiana; and salmon hayes 


been placed in the Susquehanna and its tributaries, — 


and some have even proposed to stock Salt Lake with 


% 


x ©. ee eae! 


sea fish and oysters, which, if successful, would make — 1 


it a centre for supplying salt-water fish for the great 
West. 

The usefulness of this operation cannot be over- 
estimated, as the importance of re-stocking the lakes 


and rivers, as above, with fish, will be duly appreciated. _ 
Fish breeding has been continued, and is now in sue- ~ 


cessful operation in North Andover and other places; 
and it is said the an amount of water well stocked 
with spawn, will produce more food for man than the 
same amount of land under cultivation. 

I have only time to glance at the morals and habits 
of fishermen, — none the worse for their employment. 
They bring home that which is a benefit and blessing to 
the world. If history be true, it is quite the reverse 
with miners. Ordinarily, dissipation, gambling, fight- 
ing and idleness follow in their train, and many who 
have left their families in destitute circumstances, have 
never returned, : 

But when our Pilgrim Fathers started from Old Eng- 
land, nearly three hundred years ago, almost as soon 
as they cast anchor, they commenced the employment 
of fishing. A hardier set of noble men never lived; 
and on board the ‘* Mayflower” was framed our consti- 


THE LIFE OF DAVID SNOW. 331 


tution of freedom, to which the world is so much 
indebted to-day. 

The bays and harbors then, as now, abounded with 
fish of every kind. When fish culture was discussed, a 
few years ago, it seemed a wild and impracticable 
notion. So little was known of the habits of fish, the 
element in which they lived was so unfavorable, that 
no one imagined the day would ever come when. the 
raising of fish would be the best of all processes by 
which food could be procured. 1f we could go back 
to early days when it was first proposed to domes- 
ticate wild fowls, we should find men who laughed 
at the idea of gathering wild birds from the woods, 
and coaxing them to make nests and lay their eggs 
for household purposes. In like manner it seemed a 
erazy project to breed oysters, on new ground where 
they might grow and fatten; to have an oyster farm 
under water where they might lay their eggs and rear ~ 
as many oysters as the owner might plan for. All this 
seemed very unlikely to be accomplished, yet in large 
cities the supply is mostly domestic oysters. 

By securing fish when they ascend the rivers to 
spawn, and by a gentle pressure let their eggs be taken 
from them, millions in this way can be secured for 
hatching. The quantity of eggs which large fish lay is 
almost incredible. The hatching requires no special 
care. Wooden troughs, arranged so that pure water 
flows through them constantly, receive the eggs, and 


332 FROM POVERTY TO PLENTY; OR, 


the fish soon come forth, and at due age you can scoop 
them out and put them in suitable boxes, and carry 
them wherever you please, to stock the lakes, ponds 
and rivers. By this new branch of industry, we shall 
soon see our old rivers again teeming with salmon ; and 
within a few years salmon may become as plenty as of 
yore, when it was customary for apprentices to be fed 
on salmon three times a week. The white-fish of our 
western lakes, which hold a place among our most 
delicious fish, are well nigh exterminated from our 
lakes by the wasteful method of taking them. But by 
the new art of propagation, the western waters may be 
kept full, and other lakes may have them introduced. 
Ancient Greece enjoyed eating and drinking, but 
white-fish are never mentioned among their articles 
of food. Had Jupiter ever eaten a fat white-fish, 
broiled, for his breakfast, we should have heard 
less of ambrosia, and more of the flavor of fish. 
Salmon are as good as Spanish mackerel, but 
the white-fish surpasses them all. Some praise pick- 
erel, and they are good, but like some good people, a 


‘7 


; 


little dry and flavorless. It is said that there is more ~ 


flavor in catching trout than in eating them. Shad 
is much boasted of, and such is the Puritan influence of 
good old Connecticut, that the very fish in her rivers 
were exalted to new virtues, though it may have been 


the primal cause of bones. It is said that no paper of — 


pins contains half as many pins as the shad has bones. 


THE LIFE OF DAVID SNOW. 333 


It is said that Seth Green, of Rochester, N.Y., 
is now making a fish breeding tour along the rivers and 
bays of the Atlantic coast, laying in millions of little 
fish to be distributed in all the streams that seek the 
sea, and. every year we expect to see more pilgrims 
from the deep than ever swarmed toward Mecca. 

But there is work for the public to perform which 
will benefit the nations. Fish must be protected by 
stringent laws, as those- which regulate the hunting 
of wild game. Thoughtless or avaricious fishermen 
can so obstruct the mouths of rivers with nets, that 
few fish can reach the spawning ground, and thus, in a 
few years, empty our rivers. There ought to be two 
full days in which no fish shall be taken. This will 
give time for enough fish to pass to secure an ample 
stock to take the place of their fathers. 

Our inland fisheries are becoming every year more 
~ valuable. They add much to our wealth as a people, 
and it may be said that every fish comes with a piece 
of money in his mouth; and to neglect to protect our 
fisheries is like destroying the seed-wheat, or killing 
the goose that laid the golden egg. 


334 FROM POVERTY TO PLENTY; OR, - 


A SPEECH 
DELIVERED AT THE OPENING OF THE WELLFLEET RAILROAD. 


Mr. CHArRMAN : 

I am happy to see this day, and this company, on this 
occasion, and the completion of this noble enterprise. 
There can be no true heart of Cape-Cod origin that does 


not feel his heart throb quicker and beat harder at the — 


consummation of this grand enterprise. We count and 
claim that Wellfleet and Eastham were first and fore- 
most to break ground in this noble work. To you, 
then, the honors of this day belong. We are here, my 
friends, to celebrate with you the completion of the 
Cape Cod Railroad to Wellfleet. It is pleasant to see 
here to-day acquaintances formed years gone by, the 
reminiscences of which call vividly to mind the scenes 
that were then passing. 

Cape Cod has always been noted for its moral and 
religious character. Our Pilgrim Fathers came here 
especially to plant a church (not to make money) ; and 
most signally did they succeed. I stood the other day, 
for the first time in my life, on that very rock where 
our Pilgrim Fathers landed on that twenty-seeond day 
of December, 1620. Hallowed associations came over 
me; and I blessed God that I, the son of a Pilgrim, 
lived to see this day, and for what they suffered, — to 
plant on these western wilds freedom of conscience. 





THE LIFE OF DAVID SNOW. 335 


Forty years ago, if one had said or prophesied, that, 
within that time, a railroad would be built from Boston 
to Wellfleet, he would have been thought a proper sub- 
ject for an insane asylum. When the question of 
building a railroad from Boston to Lowell was mooted, 
the question was agitated, if built, would it pay? One 

_Ian, more sanguine than the rest, said he expected to 
live.to see the day that there would be a railroad from 
Boston to California, and the whales brought from the 
Pacific to Boston, and tried out in State Street. Some 
of us have lived to see the railroad built, but not the 
whale: that is to come. This remark created quite a 
laugh, mixed with not a little incredulity. Such is pro- 
gress. But to build a railroad to Wellfleet never en- 
tered the brain of the most sanguine. But 1870 opens 
up a new era for Cape Cod: and, as evidence that it is 
not fiction altogether, we have actually rode from Bos- 
ton to Wellfleet to-day !—not in the old coach-and- 
four, over sandy or clayed roads, but on iron rails, and 
drawn by a horse not flesh and blood, but iron and 
steel; and, only give him fire and water, there is no 
telling what such a horse can do. 

We, the sons of the Cape, most of us, congratulate 
the towns of Wellfleet and Eastham, the home of our 
Pilgrim Fathers, on the success of this noble enter- 

_ prise. When it was brought to my notice, in the cars 
at Yarmouth, I said, ‘*‘ Yes, build it; and I will take 
stock in it:” which I did, and paid for it. And that is 


336 FROM POVERTY TO PLENTY; OR, 


what built the road. I was not quite sure it would 
pay, having invested in other branches of .the road. 
But I wanted this road built, pay or no pay; and built 
it is, and to-day have had ocular demonstration of the 
fact. 

Cape Cod, all below Yarmouth, was first settled by 
such men as Thomas Prince, John Doane, Nicholas 
Snow, Josiah Cook, Richard Higgins, Edward Bangs, 
John Smalley, — called the seven proprietors of Nausett 
(now Eastham). We might, with propriety, call them 
the elect of God; for, if history is true, they were as 
noble a band as ever trod the American soil. One of 
them very soon became governor of Plymouth Colony. 
As evidence of their faith in God, very soon after they 
settled here, they built a meeting-house, twenty feet 
square, with a thatched roof, and holes on all sides, 
through which they might fire their muskets, if dis- 
turbed in their worship by the Indians. 

Our fathers, mainly on the Cape, followed the sea, — 
were mostly fishermen; and their wives and daughters 
were not ashamed to lend a hand in curing the fish they 
caught. The sea has been the graveyard of many of 
our dearest friends: it robbed me of a father when an 
infant ; and his bones lie to-day among the coral rocks 
on the Bahama Banks, with only seaweed for a wind- 
ing-sheet. 

Cape Cod has produced some of the greatest men 
that ever lived, — governors, lieutenant-governors, 


“THE LIFE OF DAVID SNOW. 337 


judges, lawyers, congressmen, and master-mariners, 
who, by their assiduity and faithfulness, have become 
prominent merchants all over the land. I might name 
several in Boston. Some of the best blood that ever 
flowed in man flowed in our Pilgrim Fathers, and flows 
to-day in their sons and daughters. Such men can 
build a railroad, navigate a ship, or anything else, if it 
will only pay.* 

Many of the sons of the Cape commenced life low 
down, financially speaking. 

A poor boy from Wellfleet, who had felt pinching 
poverty, —his mother a widow, — came to Boston in 
his teens. He commenced to peddle oysters at the 
North End. In the evening, he might have been seen 
on the street, at ten to twelve o’clock at night, with a 
bag of oysters on his back, erying ‘‘ Oysters!” at the 
top of his voice ; standing at a table, at the corner of 
the. street, in the daytime, plying his business; from 
thence, to the old hulks, in town docks, peddling cod- 
fish: but, by industry and perseverance, fortune smiled 
on his efforts. Poverty could not keep him down; and 
to-day he owns and occupies a magnificent mansion on 
Beacon Street; near which, many a time, forty years 
‘ago, he might have been seen with his wheelbarrow of 
oysters, with a strap round his shoulders, on his way 


* JT have no doubt but this branch of the road will pay, as it is 
terminated in the centre of a live Yankee people, who know how to 


make money and how to invest it to make it pay. 
29 


338 FROM POVERTY TO PLENTY; OR, 


to Brighton, and back the same day, and, at the next 
morning, at three o’clock, to get in his stock of fish to 
supply his stand for the day. I will not say how much 
he is worth; but report says enough, no doubt, with 
prudence, to make him comfortable in his old age. 
Others might be mentioned of similar character, who 
have returned to the Cape to spend a green old age; 
but time will not permit me to specify. The first 
money I ever had was made by digging clams for bait. 
I rolled a molasses hogshead one mile to a cooper, who 
made me two barrels, and carried them a mile on my 
back, to the clam-house. One whole winter was spent 
in this way, with cold fingers and wet feet, which I re- 
member to this day; and the net product of it all was 
ten dollars: and it may be even so with many I see be- 
fore me. 

Mr. President, I see before and around me indica- 
tions of thrift such as I see but in few other places, — 
your splendid buildings, your increasing population, 
your spirit of enterprise, your indomitable will to make 
the place of your birth worthy her sons; and to-day 
~ your old acquaintances from all parts of the old Bay 
State have come to rejoice with you, and to bid you 
God-speed, and that you will yet, with your railroad, 
make this old Cape ‘<to bud and blossom like the rose,” 
and these sands become as valuable as the sands of Cali- 
fornia, and as prolific as the prairies of the West. 

Many a lonely hour, on a hot summer’s day, have I 


THE LIFE OF DAVID SNOW. 339 


spent in riding over these Cape roads, from Yarmouth 
to Provincetown. Now TI can come and go with a horse 
that never tires; and I expect to see ere long, when 
those men who haye made their fortunes away from 
home come back with their pockets full of rocks, coun- 
try residences springing up all around. Men of the 
Cape have located in almost every part of our land. It 
may be said of some of them, as was said years ago of 
aman in Georgia. He was greatly annoyed by the 
Methodist preachers, who went everywhere: so he 
bought him a homestead far out from any settlement, 
fearing, as he said, those preachers would get his wife 
and daughter converted, and then into the Church ; but, 
before he had unloaded his wagon in his new home, he 
was assailed by a Methodist preacher. He expressed 
his surprise that he found him so soon. ‘‘ Well, my 
friend,” said he, ‘‘if you go to heaven, you will find 
some of them there; and if to hell, Iam afraid, some 
of them there: so you had better make terms of peace 
with them without further delay.” If that is true, that 
Methodist preachers are everywhere, so I might say of 
a Cape Cod man, — especially if it will only pay, — he 
is everywhere. 3 

In the month of September, 1828, from the hill-tops 
surrounding your village, might have been seen a 
small sloop rounding Billingsgate Point, making for 
Duck Creek, loaded with an assorted cargo of merchan- 
dise. There was but one passenger on board; and he 


340 FROM POVERTY TO PLENTY; OR, 


was the sole owner of the cargo, — an entire stranger, 
—- except one man, by the name of Harding. He took 
me in; and I, in turn, took him in, and did well by 
him. Wellfleet then and Wellfleet now is quite a dif 
ferent place. 


Major Phinney is here, of famous renown, 

Who has long been a resident of a neighboring town: 
He voted, on a time, for Buchanan and Pierce; 
Though he might have done better, he couldn’t have done worse. 
But, for this kind act, he an office has had, 

Which made all his neighbors feel jealous and bad. 
His profits were such, he was enabled to build * 

A neat little cottage, which was always well filled 
With his Washington friends; who came to partake 
Of his delicious fish-chowder, and extra clam-bake. 
For many long years he has been a collector; 

But now, in a bank, has become a director. 

He is an officer, too, on a railroad, it’s said; 

And from Cape Cod to Boston is called a dead head. 
He might be our governor if his politics were right; 
And then at his clams we should all get a bite. 


A railroad to Wellfleet! farewell to the packet; 
Farewell to the stage, with its rattle and racket: 
We laugh at the storms, and we sneer at the gale, 
As we come all the way to Wellfleet by rail. 
But what would the Pilgrims have thought of it? 


We are nearer the hub than ever before, 

Though we whirl all around our circular shore. 

That curious old puzzle has truth now become: 

‘‘The farthest way round is the nearest way home.” 
But what would the Pilgrims have thought of it? 


THE LIFE OF DAVID SNOW. 341 


We just seat ourselves in a warm, cosey car, 
Dismiss all the care which our pleasure might mar: 
A whistle, a snort, a cry of ‘ All right!” 
We are off, and in Wellfleet long before night. 
But what would the Pilgrims have thought of it? 


But I guess many things would those old fellows puzzle, 
Could we but remove for a moment, time’s muzzle: 
The changes which have, and have not taken place 
On this elbow of land since their day of grace, 

Oh! what would the Pilgrims think of it? 


Talk of wonders of art, of telegraph flashes, 
Of railroads, anil steamboats, and lucifer matches; 
Of all the inventions that have ever been made, 
The boys of the Cape put them all in the shade. 
Oh! what would the Pilgrims have thought of it? 


In conclusion, Mr. Chairman, let me say, I traded in 
this town four years: then I gave place to one of your 
townsmen: and during all that time, the poor debts I 
made did not exceed seventy-five dollars. Z 

Our position in life lies mainly with ourselves. There 
is not so much in luck as some people say ; but energy, 
perseverance, and industry will tunnel through a stone 
wall of difficulties, and lead us out into the coveted po- 
sition men so much desire. In courage alone lies our 
safety, as the long journey of life we begin; and trust- 
ing our heavenly Father, who will stand by us through 
thick and thin, temptations and trials, will go on in- 
creasing as streams from a rivulet flow; but, if we are 
true to our manhood, we'll have courage to work our 
way through. 


342 FROM POVERTY TO PLENTY; OR, 


NARCOTICS. 
A PAPER PURLISHED IN ‘‘ ZION’S HERALD.”’ 


Amonea the many drugs taken into the system, no 
one is more generally used than tobacco. Though-not 
a natural appetite, by long use one becomes a slave to 
it in every sense of the word. 

I am glad that science and statistics have attacked the 
smoking fraternity. The Polytechnic School in Paris 
shows that smokers rank below non-smokers in every 
grade ; which must mean that smokers have less brains 
to start with, or that this filthy weed tends to destroy 
what sense they had originally. So it seems that in 
Europe brains and cigars do not flourish together. 

It is said that the French Minister of Public Instruc- 
tion has forbidden pupils to smoke or chew the danger- . 
ous weed. If we add to this testimony the words 
of one of the most celebrated physicians of Boston, 
viz., that many of the nervous diseases of this genera- 
tion can be traced to the use of tobacco, we can but 
hope that some members of the church will not only 
drop the use of intoxicating drink, but also this un- 
cleanly habit. I am personally acquainted with some 
young men who, before conversion, attended theatres 
and drinking-saloons, and used tobacco and profane ~ 
language, but had to give them up. As one said in 
meeting, he soon found that Christ would not long 


THE LIFE OF DAVID SNOW. 343 


remain in asmoke-house. If ministers and temperance 
lecturers only knew how much harm was done by 
indulging in the use of one narcotic while declaiming 
against another, it seems to me they would deny them- 
selves, and take up their cross, and go in for tem- 
perance in eating, drinking and smoking. They would 
then become a power that would wake up an interest 
never yet felt in New England. To have a minister 
covered with the perfume of tobacco, enter the pulpit 
to preach a pure gospel, is a stumbling-block to many. 
Not long since, at one of the Conferences, a minister 
told me that, on a new appointment, the study was so 
saturated with tobacco, he was unable in two years 
completely to get rid of it. It must be humiliating for 
a minister to have so offensive a breath that, when 
called to comfort the dying, not even the living can en- 
dure it. 

Dr. Tyng, in his lecture before the Biblical students, 
mentions some things which I hope they will remember. 
Speaking of offensive things in the ministry, he said he 
had his pulpit supplied by a friend who, when about to 
pray, took a quid of tobacco out of his mouth and laid 
it beside the Bible ; and when done reading his prayer, 
he took it up and put it in his mouth again, —a most 
disgusting sight to any one coming to hear the gospel. 

An incident is recorded in the New York Lvangelist, 
of a Methodist minister who went to visit a sick person, 
and when he knelt to pray, took out an enormous quid 


° 


344 FROM POVERTY TO PLENTY; OR, 


of tobacco and laid it beside him, and prayed. <A pious 
pepper doctor improved the occasion, and loaded the 
quid with burning cayenne. The devout chewer, en- 
tirely unconscious of what was going on, after he was 
through, on returning to his mouthful, thought that the 
prince of the power of darkness had changed quids 
with him. Solomon says, ‘‘ The mouth of fools feed- 
eth on foolishness.” ; 

How often is the mouth full of cursing while full 
of tobacco! And is, it not time that the ministry 
at least should eschew this evil by putting away this 
filthy weed out of their mouth? 

I know of some merchants upon whom the habit is 
so firmly fixed by long practice’ that, from morning till 
night, you hardly ever meet them without a pipe or 
cigar in their mouth. These are instances of the use 
of tobacco till the habit was so strong that they thought 
they could not live without it. 

Opium, morphine and tobacco are twin brothers. A 
case is mentioned in Brooklyn, N. Y., where a man 
had a compound fracture of his leg, and the pain was 
so acute that the doctors reeommended morphine. For 
two years he used it daily, and would as soon go with- 
cut food. It was said that the amount this man daily 
used would cause the immediate death of one hundred 
persons. I knew a man myself who had been in the 
habit of using this drug for many years, and when 
cares pressed heavily upon him he took an over-dose 


- 


THE LIFE OF DAVID SNOW. 345 


one day, which terminated his life, and it may well be 
said, ‘‘ He died as the fool dieth.” 

I go for temperance in all things. In order to have 
this, we must avoid rum and tobacco, and all kinds of 
narcotics, as well as hot suppers. The appetite is a 
power, but man, by the high intellectual powers of rea- 
soning from cause and effect, is responsible for the 
abuse of all the faculties so wonderfully bestowed upon 
him. ‘To pass our beautiful streets, and upon our lovely 
Common, and every other man you meet smoking and 
poisoning the pure air God gave us to breathe, is dis- 
gusting beyond expression. The use of tobacco and 
other stimulants, such as morphine and opium, are the 
same in effect as ardent spirits, — perhaps not acting 
so quickly, but the use of either will shorten men’s 
lives. It is a matter of fact, sustained by history, that 
men who indulge in narcotics do not ordinarily live 
over fifty or sixty years. 

To sit and hear a clergyman dropping wisdom and 
tobacco from the same mouth is a trial to temperance 
men. How calmly, how grandly, does a whiff of 
smoke clear the way for great truth! For one to talk 
to us for rolling sin as a sweet morsel under our tongue, 
looking at us reprovingly, while at the same time he 
himself is rolling a quid of tobacco, or studying and 
working up himself for a powerful temperance lecture 
in the evening, all of which reminds one of what St. 
Paul said on Mars Hill to the Athenians: ‘‘ The time 


346 FROM POVERTY TO PLENTY; OR, 


of this ignorance God winked at, but now commands 
every one to repent.” So we say to any chewer or 
smoker of tobacco. 

A doctor in this city had a woman come to his lifting 
eure. In her pocket-book he saw a bill for two hun- 
dred and seventy-five dollars. She said it was for medi- 
cal treatment for three months, and that she had been 
in the habit of taking morphine, which affected her the 
same as when she drank wine or other ardent spirits. 
It took him three months to work it out of her system. 
This is but the experience of one of a thousand who 
have been in the habit of taking narcotics. 

_ L hope the time is not far distant when the people 
will wake up to the effect of these poisonous drugs 
upon the human system. 


THE LIFE OF DAVID SNOW. - B47. 


WARNINGS TO THE YOUNG. 


AN ESSAY READ BEFORE THE METHODIST SOCIAL. UNION. 


Every young man and woman should be cautious in 
respect to the evils that lie in their pathway, or the 
time will come when they will say, ‘*‘ How have I hated 
instruction, and my heart despised reproof.” This is, 
and will be, the language of many who hear me to-day. 
How many have been slaughtered by the intoxicating 
bowl, and by other narcotics, such as tobacco, opium, 
and morphine, which have ruined their thousands. At 
Vermont Conference, Bishop Janes, in his address to 
the young men who proposed to join Conference, hay- 
ing asked if they used tobacco, said there were two 
hundred million dollars spent annually for bread, and 
two hundred and fifty million dollars for tobacco, and 
six hundred million dollars for ardent spirits. “And yet 
some will say, when this subject is brought up, that it 
is nothing to them; they are not like unto those who 
are apt to be overthrown in such a way as that. ‘A 
man is a fool,” they say, ‘* who cannot command him- 
self. I can go as far as I please, and come back when I 
please, and because others are silly and weak, it is no 
reason why I should not enjoy my natural strength and 
my liberty.” 

Hopefulness, at times, goes beyond all bounds, and 
becomes venturesome, and treads along the path of 
evil, or near it. Some think it possible for them to 


3848 FROM POVERTY TO PLENTY; OR, 


pursue a certain course as long as the object desired 
tastes good, and then turn around, rinse out their 
mouth with virtue, and think they are as well off 
as though they had never pursued such a career. Some 
men think they can give themselves to the world asthey 
would to an orange, and turn around at the proper 
time, or age,— say at twenty or twenty-five, — and 
become a Christian. They say, ‘*‘ When I have enjoyed 
all there is in vice while I am young, I will turn about 
and secure all there is in virtue and piety, and so gain 
all there is in both.” Yet there is no single pleasure 
which is permissable, that a man may not have who is 
a Christian. Piety does not shut up the avenues to 
enjoyment. True virtue makes every faculty for enjoy- 
ment more sensitive to joy. 

The idea that a child of God is shut out by law from 
material social things, I repudiate; but the rather, he 
is enlarged and ennobled. There is more music in him 
than there can be in any other. There is no man so 
free, there is no man who has a range so boundless, as 
he who is at peace with God. And yet there are mul- 
titudes of persons who suppose that there are peculiar 
pleasures which cannot be enjoyed except in a reprobate 
course. There never was a greater mistake than this. 
Much of the instruction that is given on this subject is 
not wise. Children are scarcely rebuked if they are 
proud, selfish, or jealous; but if they break one of the 
family rules they are whipped, or soundly scolded. 


°. 


THE LIFE OF DAVID SNOW. 349 


There are what are called ‘‘ family sins:” for example, 
the sins of omission. If the boy fails, as required, to 
hang his hat on a certain peg, that is a sin; if he tramps 
down stairs when it is a law that he shall make no noise 
in the house, that isa sin. There may be church sins: 
standing in the house of God with his hat on, or not 
reading the Bible, the non-observance of Sunday, and 
soon. Now, I do not say that family rules are not 
important, but I do mean to say that every child ought 
to be instructed in the difference between those rules 
that are made by man for his own convenience, and 
those on which God’s everlasting judgment stands, 
around which human. character is built, which enters 
into the structure of society, and cannot be violated 
without setting the peace of society at naught, and 
prejudging the welfare of the individual. And yet 
how many persons are daily allowed to indulge in envy, 
avarice, ill-temper, and all manner of wicked feelings 
that strike at the very root of love, which is the law 
of God, without being rebuked, and made to feel that 
that they are delinquent in the matter of rectitude. If 
young men grow up without knowing what is wrong, 
or “how to rectify the mischief, they too often break 
through all grounds of moderation, and are ready to 
say, ‘* I do not believe in sinfulness; I do not believe 
in danger such as we are warned of; that may do for 
children, but I am too old, and too much of a man to 


be frightened any longer at the idea of sin.” 
30 


350 FROM POVERTY TO PLENTY; OR, 


I hold that there are great principles of character 
and conduct which are coeval with the creation of man, 
the violation of which necessitates penalties which must 
fall on every heart, and be felt in every life, and from 
them no man can escape. 

But there comes a time when men who are not actu- 
ally worn out by excess do regain to some extent their 
moral sense, and a retrospection of the past causes 
them to mourn at last, when flesh and body are con- 
sumed, and say, ‘‘ How have I hated instruction and 
my heart despised reproof, and have not obeyed the 
voice of my teachers!” How many have come to that! 
Whatever may have been the impunity with which they 
sinned at first, they will sooner or later realize their 
transgression, and the penalty which God fixes. There 
comes a time when the consequences of wrong begin to 
unfold, and men come to their moral sense. 

There are those who never, after once or twice, have 
a pang for wrong-doing. They live a life of infidelity, 
defrauding, stealing, and then lying to cover it. It is 
said that men suffer at first for crime, and then go on 
with comparatively little feeling until disclosure comes. 
Then the moral sensibility is touched, and they are 
aroused as froma dream. Evil conduct stares them in 
the face. It may not have been until the law threatened 
with public exposure and shame that they fully realized 
the extent of their wickedness. _ 

You may find men to-day who are whelmed in sor- 


THE LIFE OF DAVID SNOW. Soil 


row and despair, and not until they are inearcerated 
are they troubled. There are many persons whose 
consciences are not strong enough, or not educated 
enough to resist evil, until shame, or pride, or fear 
come in to aid it, or give it tone and intensity. Some 
men do wrong as long as it is seeret; they do not feel 
_ that it is wrong until shame begins to hiss at them; 
then they feel the real pangs of conscience. There are 
men who do wrong again and again, and are not 
troubled by it until their wife or children find it out. 
They say, ‘‘ Do what you please, only do not let it go 
back to my wife and children.” Sometimes the truth 
is sent home to men’s consciences by the thought of 
the disgrace it will be to their family. 

Men are made presumptuous in sinning because they 
see wicked men prosper. This is a fatal delusion, and 
has destroyed thousands. Here is a man who, in the 
in the face of children, venerable father and mother, is 
not restrained from sin; yet by and by he is brought 
into disgrace, and then it is hard to face his family. 
Oh, if men would have as lively a conscience before 
they sin as after they have been exposed, how it would 
stand at the gate of transgression and warn men off! 
If wicked men do not come to their full punishment in 
this life, they do come to much pain; they do come to 
a realization that no man shall escape; that no deed 
done in the body shall be without its history; every 
word, thought, and deed shall rise up in judgment 


352 FROM POVERTY TO PLENTY; OR, 


against us, and we shall be required to give an account 
for all the deeds done in the body. There is a day 
coming when God shall show men His own holiness and 
purity, and bring before them their lives, and every 
man shall see what he has done, and shall give an 
account to God before the assembled universe; and if 
he can see that the sin he committed was heartily 
repented of and forsaken, what a blessed day it will be. 
But if he comes with his sins upon his head, how 
wretched will be his lot. 

When Pilate washed his hands and said, «I am 
innocent of the blood of this just man,” the crowd, 
- with their rulers at their head, cried out saying, ** On 
us and on our children be his blood!” and they had 
their way. A few months rolled around and the same 
disciples who had tarried with Christ in Jerusalem 
began to preach this Christ, and the whole city was 
shaken and the rulers seized them. Then they began 
to feel the terrors of affliction come upon them, and 
yet said not a word, for they were determined to bring 
~ this man’s blood on the head of others. 

Ah, when they wanted their own way, they were 
willing to take the risk of blood, but when they had 
their own way and blood began to come down upon 
them, they cried out against it. 7 

There are many sinning now and saying, *‘I will 
take the consequences.” But when they come to stand. 
in the presence of God, beholding the glorious light, 


THE LIFE OF DAVID SNOW. 353 


and hearing afar off heaven’s melody, seeing the poor 
whom they despised on earth, far above them, and cry, 
‘s Lord open to me!” a voice answers, ‘‘I never knew 
you; depart from me, ye that work iniquity.” 

There is such a disease as sin, and there is danger in 
it to body and soul; to this life and the life to come. 
Do not then be misled by the vain shows of earth. Do 
not place yourself where you will be ashamed of your 
Bible, or promises made to father and mother. Do 
not be persuaded by the irreligious around you, for the 
fowler’s snare is set on your right and your left. 

Believe in virtue, truth, honesty and fidelity, and 
above all, believe in God; put your trust alone in him, 
and whatever else you do, fear to displease him. Keep 
him on your side, for he is your best friend. Do right 
and fearno man. Be just, and fear not, for the love of 
God casteth out fear; cultivate a lovely nature; follow 
the Gospel light; and may the God of Peace sanctify 
you wholly. - 


354 FROM POVERTY TO PLENTY}; OR, 


PRAYER MEETINGS. 
PUBLISHED IN ‘‘ZION’S HERALD.” 


How should a prayer-meeting be conducted, to make 
it a centre of attraction? This subject was impressed 
upon my mind in reading the criticism on our social 
meetings in ‘‘ The Herald” of October 29. The writer 
says, ‘‘ Out of a membership of two hundred and fifty 
only seventy-five attend the prayer-meeting,” and that 
‘it is the lamest and most impotent of any of the 
agencies employed by the Church.” If this is so, allow 
a humble layman of the Methodist Episcopal Church to 
suggest a remedy ; namely, let the leader of a prayer- 
meeting be a deeply religious person, who loves God 
with all his heart; let him open the meeting by singing 
while the people are coming in; then let him engage in 
prayer, and then let him read a short lesson from God’s 
Word, on which suitable thoughts, appropriate to the 
occasion, may be given to the meeting. Let him 
briefly elaborate these thoughts, and then throw the 
meeting open to all who may feel the Spirit of God 
prompting them to take part, either in prayer or in 
experience. As much as possible each one should 
condense all he may say. Nothing will so interest a 
meeting as experiences of the power of God upon 
individual hearts. Ordinarily those who have but little 
to say of themselves are those who have nothing to say 


THE LIFE OF DAVID SNOW. 355 


‘to others that will amount to much. The calling on 
A and B by the leader to pray will lead to conven- 
tionalism. Others, who ought to lead in devotions, 
will wait until thus invited, and will not identify them- 
selves with the meeting; they will thus suffer, as will 
the meeting, and the Spirit of God be grieved. I 
speak from experience, for it is not always those who 
can make a good prayer, as some call it, who are the © 
most spiritual, and bring life into a meeting. The 
_ simple awakening and conversion of a soul by the 
power of God will stir the heart of those who are 
present, and will vitalize a meeting as nothing else 
will. 

The leader should impress it upon all to take part in 
the meeting, and in this to be guided by the Spirit of 
God. One serious defect in a prayer-meeting is to 
wait until the time comes to close before we take part. 
A very pious member of my class fell into the habit of 
waiting until near the close before she spoke. I said 
to her I thought it much better to speak earlier in the 
: meeting, as we wanted the dry wood to start the fire 
and inflame the green wood. Another habit we fall 
into is to labor very hard to make God willing to do 
for his children what he has promised to do. He is 
more willing to give us the Holy Spirit than parents 
are to give to their children what they really need. I 
have sat in a meeting, and heard a very good brother 
pray for just what God is wanting to do, but cannot 


356 FROM POVERTY TO PLENTY; OR, 


until the human agency has performed its part. We 
should always keep in mind that there are two agencies ; 
and when we are obedient to what God requires of us, 
that is, to open the door, he will come in and sup with 
us, and we with him. In this way we gain the blessing 
by entertaining the Blesser; and when the gate is open 
the water of life, which has been waiting, will flow 
into every thirsty soul. We shall not need then to be - 
urged to speak, but shall find it quite a cross not to do 
so. The Holy Spirit will prompt us ever to tell to 
others what a dear Saviour we have found, and what 
he has done for us. How delightful to acknowledge 
Christ here, and become ourselves centres of attraction, 
telling the story of his love. 

The great success that has attended the Methodist 
Church, from its commencement, has been in a great 
measure attributed to our social meetings. Make the 
class and prayer meetings places of spiritual entertain- 
ment, holding up the doctrine of our Church, a full 
and free salvation, and we shall have nothing to fear — 
from non-attendance; every seat will be full. Let 
the official board honor, by their constant presence, 
these social gatherings, and let all adopt the sentiment 


of one of old, — 


“T’ll go, for it is the place of prayer, 
Expecting God will meet and bless me there.” 


THE LIFE OF DAVID SNOW. 357 


DOES ‘THE -END-SANCTIFY ° THE 
MEANS ? 


PUBLISHED IN ‘‘ZION’S HERALD.” 


THE point which I wish to make relates to the culti- 
vation of the social affections. In all ages of the world 
men have attempted to devise some new schemes of 
social life. Man was made to live in society, and can- 
not live without it. The great end, therefore, is to 
discover such a form of social life as will give to each 
person the fullest scope for his intellectual, moral and 
religious faculties. I have not space to say all that 
might be said, as our charitable editor is opposed to 
long speeches, and may cut it down. It is said that 
the Essenes were a body of men who fled the cities and 
lived in villages, to escape the moral contagion of the 
former and occupied themselves in agriculture. They 
amassed neither gold or silver, fabricated no arms, 
cultivated peace with all men, and were free and equal 
among themselves. Their main principles of morals 
were to love God, to love virtue, to love all men, and 
to demonstrate these principles by the purity, charity 
and justice of their lives. All their possessions were 
for common use. Some suppose that they were in 
some respects like the modern Moravians of Germany, 
a sect founded in 1772 by Count Zinzendorf. This, 


358 FROM POVERTY TO PLENTY; OR, 


however, is not the true idea of life. Christ left his 
Church in the world to save it. 

I am in sympathy with that social element that 
Wesley refers to in his sermon: ‘* Let your light so 
shine before men that they may see your good works, 
and glorify your Father which is in heaven.” Chris- 
tianity is essentially social; and to turn it into a 
solitary religion is indeed to destroy it. Christian men 
must come in contact with men of the world; in a 
word, must ‘let their light shine;” must become 
centres of attraction. So far I go for developing social 
life. We may not, however, do wrong to secure a 
good result even. The time was, in the Methodist 
Episcopal Church, when the social element was within 
the Church—#in the class-meetings and prayer-meet- 
ings, where they did not mix much with outsiders, 
unless they voluntarily came within the circle of the 
influences of the Gospel. But how is it to-day? Can 
a Christian man or woman, in the enjoyment of a 
present and full salvation, go to public places which 
are open to all alike, and mix more or less with persons 
in the frivolities of the world, and not suffer loss 
spiritually, under the plea that the end sanctifies the 
means ? 

The point I wish to press is, how far can we mix 
with the social element of the world and not suffer loss? 
Most men believe in the positive relation between 
cause and effect. If men sow to the Spirit, they will 


THE LIFE OF DAVID SNOW. 359 


reap everlasting life; but to be carnally minded is 
death. Ithink one can be justified in going out of 
the home circle, if his object is to impress others with 
his Christian character. It is sometimes argued that 
Christ endorsed social gatherings by being present at 


the wedding, with his mother and friends; but my 


impression is that he went in no sense as people. gener- 
ally go now. He was about to establish his ministry 
on earth, and he wished to make an impression on the 
minds of those about him, that he was divine ; and 
therefore he turned the water into wine — not for the 
same purpose that wine is now made, containing more 
or less of alcohol. So, it might be said, when he went 
to dine with Simon. When he saw that Christ was 
permitting such a notoriously wicked woman as the one 
that approached to touch him, he questioned whether 
Christ was really the One he supposed him to be; but 
Christ turned to him and said, ‘‘ Simon, seest thou this 
woman? I entered into thy house; thou gavest me no 
water for my feet, but she has washed my feet with 
tears, and wiped them with the hairs of her head. 
Thou gavest me no kiss; but this woman since I came’ 
in hath not ceased to kiss my feet, and to anoint them 
with ointment. Wherefore I say unto thee, her sins, 
which are many, are forgiven ; for she loved much. 
And he said unto her, thy sins are forgiven.” It seems, 
by this circumstance, his object really in going to dine 
with Simon was that he might work his miracle to 


360 FROM POVERTY TO PLENTY. 


convince him of his divinity, and not merely for 
Simon’s dinner. Now, then, if all our invitations are 
accepted on this basis, no valid objection could be raised 
against social enjoyments. If money for a good pur- 
pose is not raised on the Gospel basis, it ought not to 
be received ; for God can carry on his work eyen 
without money. 

I am reminded here of what occurred at Newark, 
Ohio. A party of young people had a social party 
and a dance for the benefit of a Church, and cleared 
fifty dollars; but the Church refused to accept the 
money thus obtained. They offered it to another 
Church, and they refused it.. So it appears that the 
Church in some places is not so hard up as the donors 
suppose. The Christian Church should ever be as a 
lighthouse to lead poor sinners into the port of eternal 
life, and not in any way mislead those who are seeking 
to know the way to the Father. Much may be said for 
and against our social festivals in and out of the 
Church. The worldlyminded will eagerly accept and 
approve them. If, however, any are led to stumble 
and fall through those social occasions, their faith in 
the Church becomes weakened, and they finally drop 
off into the whirlpool of frivolity, upon whom will the 
responsibility rest? 





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